ICE ALLIANCE: A Jelsa Fanfic
by NopeNotTelling
Summary: (Still active, 2018!) Jack's eyes widened, his breath catching as he shakily picked up the edge of the long, sparkling capelet. It was made out of ice. HOW WAS IT MADE OUT OF ICE? SHE'D made this? But it—HER—it just was SO—! AAAAAAAAAH, ha ha ha ha ha haaaa! [[Set AFTER both movies, ROTG shifted back, as TRUE TO CHARACTER/SETTINGS as possible]]
1. The Nice List

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey everybody! Welcome to this fic! Just so you know, this starts off a bit slow, but things pick up by the end of Chapter 2. Also, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT GENRE THIS IS. It kind of has everything, but there's a ton of humor (at least, people are increasingly telling me so in the reviews!) and it's technically a romance, so I put that. I'll explain more later.**

 **Because I joined the party late and people keep asking: As of DECEMBER 2017, I AM STILL UPDATING. _(I'll try to remember to update that date with each chapter I post!)_**

 **You should also know that** _—_ ** _except for shifting ROTG back to take place in the same year as Frozen_** _—_ **I make a great effort to** _ **STAY AS 100 PERCENT TRUE TO THE CHARACTERS AND SETTINGS AS POSSIBLE.**_ **Despite the fact that we are taking a page from Disney's and Dreamwork's books and flinging historical accuracy out the window, it is now 1842. Earlier this year, in March, Jack Frost became a Guardian, and in July, a young woman named Elsa was crowned the Queen of Arendelle. Skip forward to the following December, and our story begins.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **1: THE NICE LIST**

 _ **BANG!**_

"AW- **JEE** _ **-**_ _WEEAH!"_

 _"Sorry, Phil!"_

A gust of icy wind tore through the Workshop, rattling the silver lids against their platters and sending a shudder through the Guardians as it swept past. North slapped his hands down onto the table, rising from his chair and letting out a hearty laugh as the gangly, white-haired figure shot up past the globe, flipping over the Control Station balcony and tumbling forward through the air in a flurry of snowflakes.

"JACK FROST!" he boomed, his stomach shaking. " _COME!_ Sit down at table and eat!"

Jack laughed as he dropped onto the carpet, kicking his staff onto his shoulder. "I was kind of surprised to get your summons," he admitted, a wave of confusion sweeping over his face, "Um—what's all this?"

"A _CELEBRATION!"_

"I can see that," he chuckled, eying the banners hanging from the rafters above the table. "But—um—what—are we celebrating? Exactly?"

There was a faint whirring sound, and Jack raised his eyebrows, glancing back to the other end of the table. Toothiana was hovering above her seat.

" _You_ , Jack," she smiled. "We're celebrating you."

Looking down to his feet, Jack smiled sheepishly, giving an embarrassed little shrug and sticking his free hand into his pocket. North beamed, beckoning to yeti standing at attention by the fireplace, and the yeti snorted, shuffling forward to meet him. Handing the Guardian of Wonder a scroll, it then stepped back, standing at attention as North unrolled it, holding it up in the air.

"For the first time in three hundred and nineteen years," North announced, pausing to raise a bushy eyebrow in Jack's direction and clear his throat, "Ahem—three hundred and nineteen _YEARS_ —an individual _currently_ known by the name of Jack Frost has _made the Nice List."_

Trumpets blared, and Jack's eyes widened as a pair of yetis regally stepped forward, draping a garland over his shoulders. "Now— _wait_ ," Jack laughed, "Seriously?"

"You're not the only one who's surprised," a gruff voice scoffed. "I couldn't believe it either."

The Youngest Guardian arched an eyebrow, looking back to the table. "Thanks for that vote of confidence _,_ Bunny."

A distinct, golden shimmering glimmered through the air as the Sandman, floating a few inches above his seat, silently laughed at Jack's retort, seeing the Guardian of Hope's expression. Grinning eagerly, Jack then pulled out one of the old wooden chairs from the table and scrambled into it, dropping the shepherd's crook in front of him with a clatter.

"So," Jack said, reaching across the table and taking a chicken leg from one of the silver platters, "Less than a year of the _Guardian_ gig, and I get a celebratory feast? _Nice!"_

"Not _just_ a feast," North chuckled.

 _SCREEECH!_

He shoved his chair back from the table across the stone tiles, and then smacked his enormous thighs. "COME! Sit on my lap! Tell me what you want for Christmas!"

 _"Sit on your_ —wait. No way. No— _ **AUGH!"**_

 _CLUNK._ The chicken leg dropped back onto his plate, and with one yeti taking each arm, Jack yelped as he was helplessly yanked up into the air, kicking out his legs in shock and knocking over the wooden seat. As the other Guardians burst out laughing, Jack heard it fall to the side with a crash as he passionately protested, yelling and struggling as the two yetis calmly carried him across the room. Reaching the Guardian of Wonder's chair, they held him up for a long moment, then unceremoniously dropping him into North's lap.

Before he could jump off, North lunged forward, seizing the back of his hoodie.

" _Put—me—down!"_ Jack gritted.

"But you need to tell me what you want for Christmas."

 _"Seriously?"_ he groaned, "Couldn't you just _ask_ me?"

"No."

"I _HAVE_ to be sitting on your lap?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Reasons." North leaned forward, gazing deep into Jack's eyes. Jack flinched at the awkward closeness. "Now tell me," North whispered, " _What—do you want—for Christmas?"_

Jack's breath caught.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then glanced to the side, quickly shutting it again. He quickly shook his head, forcing another laugh. "I—I think I'm good," he stammered. "There's nothing I want. I've got everything I need."

North's eyes narrowed. He then sat back, a pensive expression on his face.

"Jack Frost…" he said quietly. "You know that you can—"

 _"Seriously!_ There's nothing I want!"

Jack shoved back North's arm, leaping down off his thigh. He spun around and took a step back, inching towards the table again with his hands in the air. "I've got _everything_ , okay? I have ice powers, there are a lot of kids who believe in me, I know my center, I help people have fun, _and_ ," he added, leaping to the side and snatching it up off of his plate, "I have a chicken leg. Which is _really_ good, by the way."

"I will pass on compliments to the chef," North said slowly. "But—"

"—In fact, yeah, I think I'm going to go think about my center some more right now," he snapped, his brow setting defensively. "See ya."

He ripped off the garland and let it fall to the ground, reaching across the table and snatching up his staff. Then, turning and pacing quickly across the room, Jack Frost launched himself into the air and burst out through the tall wooden doors.

 _BANG!_

And the other Guardians found themselves sitting in silence once again.

"So… that went well," Bunnymund offered.

.

.  
North found Jack sitting in his favorite window, absent-mindedly creating frost patterns on the glass. Snow fell softly outside, twirling and spinning in the wind, and it had gotten dark, but Jack hadn't lit any candles or lamps, sitting all alone in the moonlight. North walked up behind him, folding his arms across his chest.

"You lied to me, Jack Frost."

Jack's back stiffened.

A few flurries of snow beginning to materialize out of the air around him, he determinately kept staring at the window. "No, I—no, I didn't."

"Yes, you _did_ ," North pressed, leaning forward. "I can tell."

"Gosh, is that _so?"_ Jack murmured sarcastically. "I'm fascinated."

He rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance, drawing in his left knee slightly closer to his chest. North could see the edges of Jack's ears turning slightly pink, his muscles tense as he struggled to keep color from rising to his face.

North drew himself up again, towering above Jack by the window. "I always know when someone is not telling me what they really want for Christmas. I can feel it," he said casually, leaning forward and smacking his stomach. " _In my belly."_

Jack's eyes widened slightly, and he jolted, the flurries freezing in the air. He then let out a sharp, breathy laugh of disbelief, turning around and meeting North's gaze. "You're kidding."

"Of course not," North chuckled. "Why do you think I make you sit on lap?"

 _Shoooooonk._ North pulled up one of the huge overstuffed chairs to the window, sitting down. Relaxing into its rich cushions, he looked back to Jack, a good-natured glint in his eye. "The belly _always_ can tell."

Jack sighed. He turned back to the window, flicking his hand across the glass and forming an elaborate snowflake, then pulling the edges out into increasingly complicated patterns.

"So…" North started again.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. "What do you want, North?"

"What do _you_ want, is the question."

Jack set his jaw, looking more intently at the snowflake. North sat back in his chair.

"Aaaaah… I see," he began knowingly. "You are lonely. Some companionship, perhaps?"

"What? I—"

"—I could arrange it, you know. There are many wonderful young women on the Nice List. Or," he laughed, "The Naughty List—if you prefer—"

" _Naughty Li_ —wait, _what?_ NO," Jack protested, abruptly sitting up in the windowsill. "That is NOT what I want—I mean, I wouldn't _mind_ it if that was in my life, but—"

"Jack, it is perfectly normal," North chuckled, "There is time in every man's life that—"

"—I am _not_ hearing this—"

"—And natural urges might begin to—"

"—NORTH! _Oh my word_. STOP!" Jack spun around, his face flushed.

North shook his head, laughing softly and pushing himself up from the chair. He began walking over to a table on the side of the room. "If you insist, Jack Frost. But it's really nothing to be embarrassed about."

" _Auuuuurgh,"_ Jack groaned, leaning his head back against the windowsill. "Why are you doing this to me? I _know_ you haven't tortured Bunny about this. He would have killed you. And since when are _you_ matchmaker?" he snorted, "I thought that was Cupid's thing!"

"Ah yes, Cupid. That little devil is only person in history to beat you on naughty list record," North chuckled. "And for Bunny—well, you know how rabbits are."

Jack paused for a moment, processing the statement. As North picked up a plate of cookies and began to walk back towards the windowsill, Jack then pulled in a long breath, squeezing his eyes shut and kneading his forehead.

"Wow," he choked. "I did _NOT_ need to know that."

North chuckled, sitting back down into the chair. "No matter. Cookie?"

"No thanks."

North shrugged, pulling the plate back towards himself and selecting a small, dark wafer. "You still haven't answered question, though," he said, eying the cookie. "What _do_ you want for Christmas?"

He tossed it into his mouth, savoring its flavor as he intently watched the Youngest Guardian's expression. Jack's piercingly blue, snowflake-marked eyes were now soft with sadness, his mask of feigned annoyance beginning to weaken.

Ah, yes. There really _was_ something.

The flurries of snow started materializing out of the air again, glinting in the moonlight as they softly fell in the windowsill, floating silently to the floor. After a few more moments of visible struggle, Jack finally sighed, leaning his head back against the windowsill. "North," he started softly, "You can't get me what I really want."

North's eyes narrowed slightly in thought.

"Try me," he whispered.

He selected another cookie, looking at it for a second before popping it into his mouth. Jack pulled in a deep breath.

"Life's been great since Jamie," Jack blurted. "I mean, really. People believe in me now, so it has been. But that doesn't change all those years of isolation. Or—well— _hi, I have ice powers and I don't know why,"_ he stammered. A smile tugged at the edge of North's mouth as Jack continued. "I could help people have fun and things, but I couldn't ever really have _control_ over anything."

North's bushy eyebrows lifted slightly. Setting the plate of cookies to the side, he leaned forward in the chair, setting his elbows on his knees and interlacing his fingers.

"So, you want to get beyond the past?" he asked quietly.

"No—well, _yeah_ , but that's not it," Jack sighed. "I mean—the past will be there, but as long as the past is in the past, it's okay. It's only an issue when its effects are still lingering in the future."

North nodded, saying nothing. Jack bit his lip, and North watched as he hugged his knee slightly closer into his chest, then shaking his head slightly. "I just _—_ every time I'm just trying to do the right thing, still just trying to get used to this whole _Guardian_ business, and then someone will just _walk through me—_ honestly?" Jack choked. "It _kills_ me."

A silence fell over the room.

Seeing the pain in Jack's face, North pulled in a long breath, calculating his words carefully. He looked down to the floor, opening his mouth to say something, and then closed it again, glancing back up to the gangly young man in the window.

"Almost no one believes in us forever, Jack Frost," he whispered.

"Oh, I know that." Jack leapt down from the windowsill, sticking his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie and starting to pace the room. "I just—what I _really want_ is to have a friend—sorry, a friend _my_ age," he corrected, spinning around as North raised his eyebrows, "Who might understand what this is like."

The statement took North completely by surprise.

"Three hundred and nineteen years old?" he asked.

Jack blushed. "I meant my _frozen_ age. Like _—_ nineteen. Or so."

North became quiet, leaning back into the chair as Jack turned away from him again, walking to the other side of the room and picking up his staff. North's eyes narrowed slightly in concentration, he stroked his beard, glancing upwards in thought. Then, the Guardian of Wonder leaned back in his chair, counting on his thick fingers, as if he was remembering something he hadn't thought of in a long time…

A pensive expression on his face, North's bushy eyebrows lifted slightly in the realization. " _Twenty-one…"_

And he fell quiet again, a hint of a little smile tugging at the edge of his mouth as he resumed thoughtfully stroking his beard.

After a few more moments of silence, Jack let out a bark of bitter laughter.

"My point," he snapped. " _See?_ You can't get me what I want. I want someone who understands, and they don't exist. Are you happy?"

Jack, holding the staff, folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, glaring intently at North across the room. North laughed softly, planting his hands on the arms of the chair and pushing himself up out of it.

"Adults are so easy," he chuckled, slowly shaking his head. "If they won't tell you what they want, you guess money or sex. Either you are right—and you can't give it to them—or, they will be offended and tell you."

Jack's face flushed.

"Okay. You win," he mumbled, staring at the ground. "But now do you at least _see_ why I didn't want to tell you?"

North shrugged, walking towards him. "That what you really want is a friend, about your age, that understands—let's see," he said, pausing and counting on his thick fingers again, "Ice powers, isolation, loneliness, wanting to be appreciated, getting used to new position of power, and struggling to control anything in surroundings while people don't notice efforts to do right thing—to help you get beyond the past?"

"Right. Doesn't exist."

Jack shook his head, his shoulders slightly hunched in embarrassment as he slunk past North towards the door. Unmoved, North crossed his enormous arms over his chest.

"You so sure about that?"

Jack froze.

North chuckled and began walking over to an enormous chest of drawers on the other side of the room. Reaching for one of the knobs, he pretended not to notice Jack's stunned expression at the statement. "Have you ever heard of Arendelle, Jack Frost?"

" _Arendelle?_ You mean that place in Norway?" Jack asked. "No, no, no. I only go to places that actually NEED snow. I mean, that place has gotten creepy in the last couple decades. I don't understand it—it's _always_ snowing now, or having weird summer storms, or small-scale ice formation, or—"

North raised one of his bushy eyebrows, a hint of a smile cracking out of the side of his mouth. Jack's breath caught.

"Wait—are you saying that," he stammered, stumbling back a step, "In _Arendelle_ —there's someone like me?"

"Well—in _some_ ways, a little more powerful than you, but yes. Why you think they get such crazy weather patterns there?" North chuckled, pulling out a sparkling transportation globe. He turned back slowly to Jack, smirking. "Would you like to meet them?"

"Would I like t—of _course!"_

Jack's stumbled back another step, his face a whirlwind of emotions. North smiled, seeing the new glint of hope in the Youngest Guardian's expression as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair, gripping the staff so hard that his knuckles turned white.

" _Arendelle,"_ North whispered into the globe. He then stooped down onto the floor, rolling it across the wood as it grew and started spinning itself into a portal.

He turned back to Jack. "Oh—I should tell you," he chuckled, "This person—you should be respectful."

A wave of confusion swept across Jack's face. "What do you mean?" he asked, "Is he some sort of _warlock_ , or royalty or something?"

North paused. He then threw back his head, gripping his shaking belly as his booming laughter filled the room.

 _"What?_ What is it?" Jack demanded anxiously, _"What's so funny?"_

North stopped laughing, shaking his head and looking back to Jack. "Well—you are half right."

"He's a warlock?"

"No—about the royalty," he said. North then leaned close into Jack's ear. "But you should know that _she—_ is the reigning queen of Arendelle."

Jack's eyes widened. "Wait, _WHAT?"_

Before he could say anything more, The Spirit of Winter was snatched up into the air by the back of his hoodie and a belt loop on his pants.

 **"MERRY CHRISTMAS, JACK FROST!"** North boomed, and he pulled back and flung Jack headfirst into the portal.


	2. Arendelle

**2: ARENDELLE**

" _AAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!"_

Jack's heart leapt into his throat as he fell through the portal, the dizzying tunnel of spinning colors engulfing him as he toppled over and over, completely out of control, the wind shrieking in his ears. Having left his stomach somewhere back in the Workshop, Jack could feel the air being sucked from his lungs in the scream as he tumbled helplessly through the vortex, his hair whipping in his face, until he was launched into the air again, shooting out of the spiral of colors and plummeting downwards through the darkness.

All of a sudden, Jack's shoulder slammed into something hard. The shepherd's crook flew out of his hand and ricocheted across the ice, and he yelped, instinctively throwing his arms out in front of him as he tumbled over and over, helplessly crashing and banging into the ground until his body finally came sliding to a stop.

 _ShhhhhhhhhhhOONK!_

And the spiral of colors collapsed in onto itself above him, the last of the characteristic _whooshing_ sound of the cyclone reverberating through the air as the portal faded.

All was quiet once again.

For a few moments, Jack Frost lay on the ice, gasping for breath. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, his heart pounding, the stars slowly began to come back into focus, soft and pale specks when compared to the blindly-bright neon colors of the portal.

 _Ow,_ Jack thought, shakily beginning to push himself up again. That was just like North. Flinging him here. For snow's sakes, Norway wasn't _that_ far South—if that's where he was. Controlling the wind with his staff, Jack thought, he could have just as easily _flown_ here in a couple hours or so, and _OHMYWORD_ _ **STAFF!**_

Jack jolted and sat up, frantically whipping his head around. As it caught his eye, lying precariously close to the edge, he gasped and scrambled across the ice, lunging and slapping his hand on top of the shepherd's crook.

Closing his eyes as he sank back into his knees, Jack Frost slowly let out his breath, protectively pulling the staff towards himself as the dark waves lapped up against the edge of the newly-formed ice floe. Startling slightly, and then rolling his eyes, he turned and looked up.

Jack scoffed.

"Yeah," he chuckled bitterly, glaring at the Moon. " _Hilarious_."

Getting onto his feet, Jack Frost brushed himself off, looking around in the darkness. Gazing across the dull gleam of the waves, and feeling the movement of the water below the ice, he realized that he was standing in the expanse of a wide fjord. Before him, built on a peninsula stretching forth into the waves, was a sprawling castle. It, and the mountains behind it, was covered with the thick, rich snow of December, sparkling in the moonlight.

"So… this is Arendelle, huh?"

He stepped off the ice floe and walked a few paces towards the castle to get a better look, waves creaking softly as they slowed and froze beneath his feet. Pausing, he glanced back to the Moon again.

"Oh, yeah. I'd _definitely_ noticed," he admitted, "I guess I—I just never thought to investigate."

A few moments passed, and he raised single eyebrow.

"Because it was _creepy?"_ he scoffed. "And, come _on._ I had a few other things on my plate, too. I didn't realize th—what?"

He stared at the Moon for a few moments. Then, his expression softening, Jack let out his breath, his face cracking into a smile.

"It's good talking to you, too, Manny," he said quietly. "But—uh—I've got a _castle_ to explore."

He turned around and positioned himself to leap off of the ice floe, but then paused, looking up to the Moon. After another moment, he laughed again, a little blood rising to his cheeks as he rolled his eyes.

"Of _course_ I won't do anything stupid."

He whirled around and launched himself off of the ice.

Zipping across the fjord, the cool mist of the waves in his face, Jack felt a burst of excitement shoot through his body. The queen, apparently, was responsible for this—the ice, the strange weather, that had so baffled him over the past two decades. But he'd specifically asked for someone his own age. Well—frozen age, anyway. Could she really be that young?

Flying up over the docks and streets, he lit upon one of the large outer walls of the castle, peering down into the courtyard. It was lined with snow-covered awnings and overhangs, with two gigantic fountains in the middle, drained for the winter. Between them was an enormous Christmas tree, covered with sparkling globes of all different sizes and colors, softly shining in the moonlight. Behind the tree, there was a much taller, pillar-laden building than towered over all the shops below, and in the center of this building, towards the top, was a balcony overlooking the courtyard and the kingdom beyond.

Well. _That_ looked promisingly regal.

He leapt from the wall, swooping across the courtyard and gently landing on the edge of the balcony rail. Jumping down, he crept forward slowly, suddenly realizing that the handle of one of the tall glass doors before him was covered with a thin, but distinct, film of ice.

His eyes widened as he leaned in closer, inspecting the frosty swirls and patterns in the ice layer. After so many years of experience with blizzards and snow, he knew that such a film of ice that would never _naturally_ cover a handle in such a way.

 _Wow._

A burst of excitement rushed through his body, and Jack stood back up, reaching for the handle. Carefully setting his hand over the frost pattern as to not disturb it, he tried the door.

 _Thunk._

Locked. Jack sighed, his face falling as he took a step back on the balcony. Of course it was locked. What had he expected? A "welcome" mat? She _was_ the queen, after all.

But—he was Jack Frost.

Crouching down, he peered into the keyhole. _Classic design,_ he thought. _Complicated, but classic. Shouldn't be too hard to… let's see…_

Carefully gauging his strength, the Spirit of Winter gently guided a long breath of air into the keyhole. A faint cloud of frost covered its inside, spilling out a bit onto the handle itself. Then, reaching forward, he touched the end of it. It creaked as it hardened in the lock, and he stood up, inspecting his handiwork. Being careful to not disturb the frost pattern on the door handle, he grasped the ice key, and gingerly turned it.

 _Click._

With a gentle pull, the door swung open before him, and Jack Frost grinned. After spending over three centuries on the Naughty List, he had a few tricks up his sleeve. Pulling the new key out and placing it on the top edge of the door frame, Jack silently chuckled to himself, stepping inside and pulling the door to the balcony shut behind him.

 _You might wanna think about updating that lock system, ma'am._

As he turned around, he gasped.

Suddenly, he was standing in a long hallway filled with sparkling ice that gleamed and glistened before him in the moonlight. His eyes widened, and he stumbled back, bumping into something hard. Jolting, he spun around just in time to drop his staff, catching a cold, clear object as it fell from the icy shelf.

Jack paused for a moment to catch his breath before opening his hand to look at the trinket. It was a tiny, intricate statue of a girl with pigtails.

 _Is this—ice?_

Letting out a breathy laugh of disbelief as he put it back on the shelf, it was only replacing it that he realized that the hallway wasn't _covered_ in ice—it wasn't even really a hallway at all. It was an icy art gallery, with gleaming, crystalline shelves rising around him in the bigger room and lined with hundreds of tiny ice statues, each one as intricate and unique as the next.

" _Flawless,"_ Jack breathed.

Bending down and picking up his staff, he began walking down the line of shelves, admiring the tiny, frosty figurines as they caught the light, his own shadow falling across the ice. A few of them were repeats—not exactly the same, but of the same people. The girl with pigtails was a recurring figure. Maybe she was a close friend, or something?

Coming to the end of the hallway, Jack found himself standing in front of a large desk, littered with papers, close to a regal white door, with a long, blue satin ballgown hanging beside it. In the desk's back left corner was a small stack of cards and thank you notes, opened and loosely clustered together with a number of newspaper clippings and letters.

The Youngest Guardian, holding the staff, gently bounced into the air, pulling his feet up behind him as he hovered over the desk. Gingerly shifting the papers to the side, his eyes fell across the handwritten scrawls and notes and newsprint.

.

 _Trade Triples: Behind the Snow Queen's Revolutionary Economic Policies_

 _Snow Queen of Arendelle Establishes Children's Literacy Fund_

 _Arendelle Tax Code Rewritten and Simplified by Snow Queen_

 _Snow Queen Leads Massive Renovation of Outer-Arendelle Infrastructure_

 _._

 _Snow Queen?_ Jack thought, his eyebrows lifting slightly in interest. As he looked over the letters and newspaper clippings, he began to float back to the floor, seeing a large file in the center of her desk. Leaning his staff against the chair, he reached forward, picking it up and pulling back the cover.

 _ARENDELLE PEASANT HOUSING REFORM_

 _In response to the dire situation facing the peasant class, as brought to our attention by the 1846 kingdom-wide census, I, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, do hereby recommend for the construction of a system of royally-funded housing units along the main streets of the agricultural sector. The funding for this project would come primarily from standard existing taxes, and the funds raised by the Arendelle Improvement Society's biannual Charity Gala. While we are aware that the Society was hoping these funds would be used to construct a new formal reception hall, it appears much more pressing to first address the situation of our peasantry, particularly those in…_

He jolted, letting out an involuntary snort.

 _BURN._

He raised his eyebrows, a mischievous grin tugging at the edge of his mouth as he read over the young queen's elegant script. _Translation_ , Jack thought wryly, smirking as he flipped through the papers in the file, _Thinly-Veiled Plan for Rich People to Entertain Themselves in the Name of "Improving Arendelle" Backfires when the Queen Uses Donated Funds to Actually Improve Arendelle._ From what he could tell, this reform hadn't been pushed through yet—but, whoever the Snow Queen of Arendelle was, it appeared from all accounts that she didn't particularly _care_ what the nobility was going to say.

He was liking this woman already.

Jack Frost shook his head, chuckling silently to himself as he closed the file, carefully putting it back on the desk. What luck, to have ended up in a _private study,_ like this. A chance to do a little research first, on this young woman that North believed could be his friend…

Looking to the top of the desk, Jack's eyes fell onto another newspaper clipping, the title cut off, with only a picture and a caption.

 _Snow Queen Presents "Service to the Crown" Award to Local Teacher_

The picture, faded in the newsprint, was an inked illustration of a statuesque young woman with a braid, presenting a key to an old lady. Sitting on the top of the newspaper clipping was an icy statue of the lady, crookedly smiling, a small child gripping her full skirt.

 _These are her memories… aren't they?_ Jack realized, looking back to the hallway of statues. They gleamed and shimmered in the moonlight from the glass balcony doors, just like the long, ice blue evening gown that hung on a hanger by the cluttered desk. The young woman in the illustration—what kind of a queen would use her study as an art gallery? And as a… uh…

A look of confusion swept over his face as he glanced back to the evening gown.

Closet?

There was suddenly a tiny groan from beyond the door. Jack's breath caught, and he jumped, whipping around to face it.

 _"Mmm?"_ warbled a voice softly again from the next room, " _Yes… m'yes, have anotherrrr one… I can make 'em in just a sec…"_

His heart leapt into his throat. But—this was a _study._ Right? What could the door lead to? Was it really—but a _study_ wouldn't connect to a—

Jack bit his lip again. After a few moments of indecisive hesitation, he closed his eyes, grasping the door handle and twisting it, then gently pulling it forward. It slowly swung open before him, a tiny, almost indistinguishable creak resounding through the room as his heart leapt into his throat.

Oh, geez.

It _was_ a bedroom.

The Youngest Guardian froze, his eyes bulging as he stood in the doorway. The realization falling onto him like an anvil, he bit his fist, whirling around as he frantically looked between the bed, and the balcony, and then back to the bed. This room he was in—this hallway, this art gallery—it wasn't an official study at all, but a room attached to her sleeping quarters. It was a _private_ study, filled with her _private_ memories, just as unofficial as the—

He looked back to the file on the desk. The reform thingy. It hadn't been pushed through yet.

The Snow Queen was flying under the radar.

 _What kind of a stressed-out, self-sacrificing workaholic sets up a SECRET DESK in their closet to KEEP WORKING?_ Jack thought with disbelief. _Okay, it's impressive that she CARES so much and everything, but…_

He turned around, gazing upon the hundreds of ice statues again. The desk. The reforms. Whoever she was, this girl was incredible. And fascinating. And, clearly, she needed to take a break. And—

He looked to the bed.

And— _right. There._

 _You should be… respectful,_ North's voice played in his mind. _Royalty…_

Without taking a second to think, Jack had already flown across the room, gently touching down by the heavy-looking, four poster bed. Around it hung thick, dark curtains, rich and regal, the bed itself covered with a thick bedspread, and—

The young queen's platinum blonde hair was thrown out around her face like a halo on the icy pillow, her sharp features distinct and pale. Standing next to her bed in the moonlight, Jack could see the unbraided wave of her loose hair, the scoop in her nose, the pink flush of her pale cheeks. The girl's head was rolled towards him on the pillow, her graceful neck twisted to the side, and from the last remnants of lavender makeup clinging to the lashes of her large eyes, it was evident to Jack that this young monarch—laying here, curled up in the covers before him in her disheveled state—had endured a very rough day. It was only now, gazing down upon her, that he noticed the worried little crease forming in her brow, the few silver, prematurely-aged hairs among her blonde ones, and the dark flush of exhaustion beneath her slightly-sunken eyes.

She was— _beautiful_.

His heart pounding, Jack carefully took another step towards the bed, looking into the anxious face of the sleeping young queen. _This_ was elegant woman in the newspaper illustration? The powerful "Snow Queen of Arendelle," of whom he had somehow _not_ been aware? Ice powers or otherwise, she was clearly _very_ smart. She was a reformer. She was working under the table, ignoring the demands of the nobility to do what she believed to be the right thing. She was a force to be reckoned with.

And here she was: a fragile-looking girl curled up in a pile of covers, breathing softly as her innocent white nightgown slipped from her shoulder.

Biting his lip, Jack moved the staff behind his back as he reverently took another step towards her, looking into her face. But she was—she was _so_ — _!_

 _Young._

She groaned again, and he jumped, pausing for a moment as he hovered a few inches up in the air. Coming back down, his toes sinking into the rich carpet, Jack Frost watched in wonder as the girl shifted slightly in her sleep, the satiny nightgown catching the moonlight as she—

Wait. Hold up.

Jack's eyes widened again, his breath catching with disbelief as he stared at the cloth.

No _. WAY._

He took a tiny step towards the bed, his mouth falling slightly open in shock, inspecting the sleeve of her nightgown. The satiny shine of the fabric, gleaming in the moonlight, wasn't the shine of satin at all. Somehow— _amazingly_ —it was the shimmering of millions of tiny ice crystals, falling delicately across her pale wrist as a soft little layer of frost, glistening and shimmering almost as if it _AUGH DO NOT TOUCH!_

Jack abruptly sucked in his breath, jerking his hand back from the girl's sleeve. Feeling blood rushing to his face in embarrassment, he looked down, only to realize that his fingers were trembling.

Gulping down the humiliation again as he determinately stuck his hand into his pocket, he slowly let out his breath. He had not— _not—_ almost just touched this girl _in her sleep._ Way to be creepy, Jack. Nobody saw that. Right?

 _Right?_

The Spirit of Winter bit down hard on his lip, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, the hand in his pocket still shaking with nervous excitement. He had to get a grip. To calm down. But—b-but he'd never— _seen_ ice like that, before. The microscopic crystals, smooth and delicate, all perfectly aligned, and so much—just—the ice in here, the nightgown and the statues, the film on the door handle. It just was so much—

 _Girl_.

These were the Powers of Winter, as harnessed by a girl. He looked back to the pale young woman, the realization sinking in.

 _Ice Powers Girl._

Jack Frost let out a tiny, breathy laugh, nervously biting his fist as he stumbled back a step, his mind racing. How was this happening? He'd seen this girl's desk. The newspapers. The intricate statues. Whoever she was, the Snow Queen was a dream. His heart started pounding, the wave of excitement sweeping through him. Ice Powers Girl. _This_ was an _Ice Powers Girl?_ Was he dreaming? Was this all really—

In his peripheral vision, a light blue shimmering caught his eye. The realization hitting him, he gasped, leaping up into the air again.

 _Great. Bounding. BLIZZARDS._ How had he not noticed?

Jack was back across the room in an instant, darting into the art gallery. The ballgown. The ballgown hanging by the young woman's desk. It wasn't satin—and those _weren't_ gemstones. His hands trembling with excitement, Jack bent down and shakily picked up the long capelet hanging beneath the blue skirt, suddenly aware of the intricate swirls and patterns, the snowflakes woven into its design.

 _Is this… FROST?_

His eyes bulged. It was made of ice. _How was it made of ice? She'd_ made this? How was this even _possible?_ She—it—b-but he— _aaaaaaurgh._ It just— _her—_!

 _Aaaaaaaah, ha ha ha ha ha!_

Releasing the capelet and letting it float softly to the floor, Jack snatched up his staff, flying back into the bedroom. This girl was _amazing._ How did she even _make_ this stuff? How did she figure it out? It was beautifully done, _that_ was for sure, but—ice, as it _hadn't been used by the Spirit of Winter, himself?_ Now, _that—THAT_ was impressive. Oooooh, this was great. He couldn't wait until she woke up. She'd wake up, and he'd introduce himself, and—

Jack froze.

Feeling the familiar, cold wave of desperate loneliness washing over him again, he looked down, swallowing hard.

The preemptive heartbreak hit him like a punch in the stomach. Shifting on his feet, he glanced forlornly back to the beautiful girl curled up in the covers. This young queen wasn't like Sandy, or Bunnymund, or any of the other Raised Ones. She was rather _like_ them, in terms of her unusual power, but—well. She was a grown woman. A lady, from the looks of it. And what were the chances that a _lady_ —and not just any lady, but the _reigning_ _Queen of Arendelle_ —would believe in Jack Frost?

He bit his lip.

Yeah. Not likely.

Fighting back the sweeping feeling of hopelessness, Jack drew himself up. It wasn't too late. Couldn't be. No such thing as too late. Right? After all, it wasn't like he was invisible to _everybody,_ anymore. Perhaps, if he worked hard enough, he could get her to believe in him. Hey, maybe he could ask some kids to help out. Since the previous March, news of his existence had been traveling fast among the children of the world, even though it hadn't reached anything this far North yet… ah, well.

Jack Frost slowly pulled in his breath, watching as the young woman shifted in the covers again, her soft lips parting slightly. She couldn't see or hear him, but—that didn't make her any less amazing. From the things in her study, it was apparent that she was hardworking, and talented, and caring, and _oooooh, MAN_ , the Snow Queen was pretty. Even if all he could do was stand by her bed, just looking at her, just _admiring_ her—Jack was going to savor this moment.

Leaning into his staff and sinking down against it, a sheepish smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. He looked back and forth between her face, and the icy nightgown, and then her face again, his heart swelling.

 _Ice Powers Girl._

He shifted on his feet, drumming his fingers on the shepherd's crook and letting out a dreamy sigh.

Pretty…

All of a sudden, the young queen let out a tiny, breathy little whimper of a moan in her sleep, shifting again in the covers. Jack's smile faded as he saw the expression of worry sweep over the girl's face again, as if her responsibilities were following her into her dreams…

 _You've got quite a lot on your plate—don't you?_ He thought, looking into the young queen's anxious face. _Just a little—well, here. Hold still, Snowflake._

Jack swept his hand through the air, a tiny, gleaming flurry of ice particles materializing from his fingertips and hovering over his outstretched palm. A knowing smile on the edge of his lips, he concentrated, beginning to push the snowflake through the air to land on her nose.

 _"MmmmmmNO,"_ the young woman warbled.

Jack jumped, abruptly closing his hand. The snowflake burst apart just before touching her skin, falling softly onto the bedspread in a shimmering mist as the girl began to turn over in her sleep, murmuring under her breath.

"Myyyy king'dom gits FIFTY ponies from you fer ev'ry ship'ment of ice," she muttered, flinging her hand into the air resolutely. _"Ev'ry ship'ment!"_

 _CRACK!_

A messy clump of ice shot out of her hand, flying past Jack's shoulder and smashing into the floor at the end of the bed. Jack clapped his hand over his mouth, sinking onto his staff with silent laughter. _Okay,_ he thought, struggling not to gasp for breath, _This girl is magnificent._

He crept towards the bed again, looking into the young woman's elegant face. " _Ev'ry_ ship'ment," she marbled again, bringing a grin from the Spirit of Winter, "Pardner… pardner in _TRADE_."

He couldn't resist anymore.

"Well, thanks for the offer, Snowflake," Jack chuckled. "But if you could hear me, I'd tell you that we'd be better partners in _other_ things."

Her eyes flew open.


	3. Speak Words

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: And now that we've gotten through the first couple chapters, I can tell you a bit more about this fic, its rating, etc. First off, I'm only allowed to select two categories for Ice Alliance's genre, but you should know that this has a bit of… well, most everything. If I had my way, I would put Friendship/Romance/Humor/Hurt/Comfort/Drama. However, NOT having my way… yeah. Secondly, regarding the rating, there is some very sexual stuff (and also some very dark stuff) in Ice Alliance, but I promise that there is _never any profanity, taking of the Lord's name in vain, pre-marital sex, or ANYTHING graphic_ (I never "show" anything, and I'll give you Content Warnings on the potentially questionable stuff). I make an effort to keep this PG-13. My PERSONAL belief is that the dark stuff is fine, as long as it's being used to demonstrate contrast between good and bad characters. This is my promise to you, as the author!**

 **ALSO: Sometimes, chapters will have TWO Author's Notes, with different dates by each one. This is because I've added some stuff since the chapters were originally posted. Despite the fact that I had started writing in August of 2015 (I know, I know; LATE to the party!), in February of 2016, I felt that I needed to take a Drafting Hiatus, which ended up lasting 16 months, because I suck. In a nutshell: Most of the Author's Notes are original, but if they aren't, I'll post the dates. I'm guessing that nobody's going to care but me, but HEY, I figured I'd throw it out there.**

 **Did I cover everything? Yes? YES. I'll shut up now, and get back to the story. Thank you SO MUCH for getting to the third chapter, and I hope you have a FANTABULOUS day!**

 **.**

 **3: SPEAK WORDS**

The Youngest Guardian froze, gripping his staff with both hands, his mouth hanging agape as he stared into the two terrified, enormous blue eyes that were suddenly were gazing directly into his own.

Slowly taking his hand off of the shepherd's crook, Jack reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, glancing downwards. Anxiously rubbing the back of his neck, he then shifted on his feet, looking back into her eyes

"Uh…" Jack laughed nervously. "Hi."

 ** _"_** ** _AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"_**

Jack startled backwards in shock as the girl sat bolt upright, screaming and yanking the sheets up over her chest.

 _"WHOA!_ I'm sorry!" he stammered, "I didn't think tha—"

 **"—** ** _GUARDS!"_** she shrieked, **"** ** _GUAAAAAAARDS!"_**

 **"** **GAUGH!"**

Having started frantically kicking at him through the covers, the girl's foot broke free and swung past his shoulder, sending Jack lurching to the side and crashing into her nightstand. She screamed again, her eyes wild with terror as she scrambled away from him on the bed.

 ** _BANG!_**

A door crashed open behind him. As he desperately struggled to regain his footing, pushing himself up off the nightstand and spinning around, Jack leapt into the air just in time to see two heavily-armored men come rushing into the room.

" _Your Highness!"_

"Take this young man to the dungeon at _once!"_ the girl gasped.

Their jaws set with fury, the guards whirled around to where she was looking, shouldering their rifles. Eyes narrowed with determination, their years of training were about to be tested. And here it was; the chance to put that training to use, to prove themselves, to _protect their queen_ , to—

Look in one direction. And then another.

And back again.

The two men looked around the room, confused expressions sweeping their faces as they tried in vain to locate the apparently invisible intruder. After a few moments, one of them shuffled uncomfortably in his uniform, lowering his gun and glancing to the other. The second gave a tiny shrug, swallowing hard.

They turned to the young woman in the bed again helplessly.

"Um…" One of the guards cleared his throat, looking at the floor. He then nervously looked back to her. "What… man… your majesty?"

The young woman's mouth fell open in shock. "What do you mean, _what man?"_ she sputtered, "The one that's standing _right there_ , in—!"

Her voice trailed off, and her eyes widened as she looked up.

"In—the air?" she squeaked.

Hovering above the end of her bed, Jack gripped his staff so hard his knuckles turned white, his gaze locked onto hers in disbelief.

She was staring at him.

She could— _see_ him.

 _Say something to her._

Jack's heart started pounding, his mind racing as he floated cross-legged in the air, frozen with shock.

 _WORDS! SPEAK WORDS TO HER, YOU MORON!_

 _"_ _UM!"_ Jack blurted.

She jolted again, abruptly sucking in her breath.

"I—uh," Jack shakily tried again, glancing to the guards, and then looking back to the young woman in the bed, "I—I don't think they can see me."

The awkward silence fell. Jack let out a nervous laugh, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair.

"You might as well lie and get rid of them," he said quietly. "Then I can explain."

A look of distrust swept over her face as she glanced to her guards, then back to the boy floating before her. After a few moments of hesitation—biting her lip—Jack watched as the young queen let out her breath.

Her eye twitched slightly, and she sank back into the bed, flicking her hand towards the guards. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you," she said carefully, never taking her eyes off of Jack. "I must have had a nightmare. Thank you for the fine work, gentlemen. You are dismissed."

The guards sheepishly turned and, shouldering their guns, walked back across the room. The first pulled back the enormous handle on the thick wooden door, and Jack, still floating cross-legged in the air, watched as they exited. The door slowly swung shut after them.

 _Boom._

The click of a lock.

And all was quiet.

Jack slowly looked back to the girl in the bed. As soon as the guards had left, she had sat up again, bolt upright, clutching the bedsheet to her chest as she stared.

He gulped.

"Uh…" Jack started again. "Hey."

She said nothing, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

After a few more moments of silence, Jack looked down into his lap, drumming his fingers on the staff. Glancing to her again, he let out a nervous laugh, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair for the second time.

"Soooo," he said slowly, "You—can see me."

Shaking her head, the girl's face drained of color as she pointed to Jack—and then to the door—and then back to Jack, who was still effortlessly hovering in the air above the end of her bed.

" _How?"_ she choked.

Her face went pale, and she closed her mouth again, staring up at him in horror. A new wave of excitement rushed through Jack's body, and he leaned forward.

"You—can _see me_ ," Jack repeated, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

The young woman jolted, snapping back into focus. "Of _course_ I can see you!"

"YOU can SEE ME."

 _"_ _OH!_ I'm _sorry!"_ she snapped, "Is this not usually how it goes for you?"

"I—wha?"

"I _said,_ is this _not how it usually goes for you?"_ she sputtered angrily, "Was I just— _not supposed to wake up,_ as you creepily watched me sleep? Or did you just suppose you were invisible to women, or something?"

Jack's face flushed.

Eh, heh.

"Okay—uh— _first_ of all," he stammered, blushing furiously as the young woman shifted in her covers, "I usually don't watch girls sleep, because that's—weird—"

"—Oh, so I'm an _exception—_ "

"—And secondly—um—with the _invisible to women_ thing—?"

His voice trailed off. Jack Frost swallowed hard, his face falling as the young queen raised her eyebrows.

"Yes?" he squeaked miserably.

A look of confusion swept over her face. After a few moments, the girl scoffed, shaking her head.

"How on _earth_ are you doing that?" she demanded.

"Doing what?"

" _That!"_

He watched in confusion as the young woman frantically gestured from him, and then to the floor, and then back to where he was hovering in the air. Looking down, Jack realized what she meant, uncrossing his legs as a hint of a smile tugged at the edge of his mouth.

"Special set of skills," he breathed.

" _Floating in the air_ skills?!"

"Well—yeah, I—I guess—does it bother you? I could come down," he offered suddenly, "Do you want me to come down?"

 _"_ _Yes!_ I mean, _NO! WAIT!"_

He froze, abruptly pulling his feet up again and looking to her. Still clutching the sheet over her chest, the young queen had spun around, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"Can you—okay," she said carefully, glancing upwards, "I was just—I was just wondering if you'd noticed the footprints on the ceiling."

 _Wait, what?_

An expression of confusion sweeping over his face, Jack looked up. "There are footprints on the ceiling?"

 _CRACK!_

A flash of light exploded through the room, and he jolted, startling backwards into the air and looking back down. In an instant, the young queen had leapt onto her feet, whirling away from him before he could see anything and circling her arms over head. The Youngest Guardian had looked down again just in time to see the last of the ice erupting out of the young woman's arms, falling softly around her and clinging to her body in a sparkling, pale blue sheet.

Drawing herself up, the young queen then turned back around to face him, now fully-dressed in a shimmering, icy ballgown covered in snowflakes.

Jack's eyes widened.

"Wha—you just— _!"_ he gasped. "Is that—that's _ice!?"_

The young queen raised her eyebrows, daintily picking up the edge of her skirt as he floated down to the floor.

"Special set of skills," she replied coldly.

Before he could respond, she then whirled around and stomped her foot on the ground, ice shooting out across the carpet in enormous, swirling spirals. He startled, leaping back in shock. " _WHOA!"_

She didn't respond, turning and pacing across the room, the pale blue fabric of her icy skirt billowing out behind her as she moved. Jack's mind raced, and, now on the floor, he crouched down, gingerly touching the frozen carpet. She had. _Frozen._ The _carpet._

How was this happening?

After a few moments crouching by the floor in the middle of the bedroom, feeling the now ice-covered ground in shock, the Spirit of Winter shook his head, standing up again and running over to the young woman on the other side of the room.

"You can see me," Jack blurted.

She reached forward to the door, and throwing a thick metal bolt across it and turning around. "Yes, I think we've established that."

" _And_ you can hear me."

"I can."

"S-Sorry, I—I have to be thorough— _I—!"_

Before she could react, the Guardian of Fun suddenly bounced into the air, flying across the room and falling back onto the ground in front of her.

 **"** ** _OW!"_**

The young woman leapt back in shock, clapping her hand over her nose.

"It _worked,"_ Jack gasped.

" _You BIT me!"_

 _"_ _B-b-but that's never_ _WORKED before!"_ he sputtered desperately, "I mean, it—I—usually, it just goes _through,_ and—you know—and it's really cold, and people sneeze, and—stuff?"

The young woman stared at him in stunned silence.

"And, it's—uh," Jack tried again weakly, "It's—funny?"

His voice trailed off again. The girl was slowly lowering her hand away from her face.

"And that wasn't a bite," he mumbled. "It was a nip."

" _What's WRONG with you?!"_

"I wanted to check if—"

"I HAVE HAD _JUST_ ABOUT ENOUGH OF— _!_ "

Jack winced as she abruptly cut herself off, snapping her mouth shut just before the last part of the phrase fell off the tip of her tongue. Clenching her fists and then relaxing them, stretching out her fingers, she pulled in a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

Jack felt a wave of horror sweep over him again, and he stuck his free hand in his pocket, awkwardly kicking at the carpet as he did so. Pulling in a deep breath, he then hesitantly looked back up into her face.

"I—I'm sorry," Jack apologized, "If I offended—"

"— _No!_ You're fine!"

Her eyes flew open again. After a fraction of a second, she forced a smile, her cheeks flushing as a few flurries of snow began to materialize out of the air around her.

"Everything is— _fine,"_ the young woman said carefully.

Jack's heart skipped a beat.

"I—I really wasn't thinking it'd work," he stammered gratefully, "But I probably shouldn't have done that—just now—"

"It's quite alright."

She whirled around and began to quickly pace across the room towards the corner, the skirt of her icy gown trailing behind her on the carpet. He jumped, quickly following.

"It's all kind of a shock _,"_ he continued, "I mean, usually people don't _notice,_ but—like, how can you _not notice_ someone biting your nose, right? And it's not every day that you meet somebody else that has—"

"— _AH-AH-AH!"_ she jolted, spinning back to him.

He froze.

Flicking her fingers towards him, the young woman—her eyes wide with terror—frantically gestured for him to move away. Feeling heat rushing to his face, Jack bit his lip, looking down towards his feet.

"Oh. Um—I—okay."

Jack took a step backwards.

"Uh—better?" he asked hesitantly.

She bit her lip, looking worried. Flicking her hands again, she gestured for him to keep going. Jack took another step back away from her.

" _Ah_ —" she choked.

And another step.

" _Aaaaaaah—"_

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step.

 _THUNK._

Jack startled as he bumped into the chair, whirling back around and straightening himself up. Now standing on the complete opposite side of the room, he sighed.

"How about _now?"_

Her hands trembling as she held them out in front of her in the air, the young woman pulled in a deep breath. "Yep. Uh-huh. Just—just _stay over there—RIGHT_ there _,_ " she said carefully.

"I—"

 _"—_ _DonMove!"_

She shot him another quick, forced little smile, and Jack's heart leapt again. She could see him.

 _SHE._ Could— _SEE him._

Relaxing slightly, he leaned into his staff, grinning dumbly back as she turned away, planting her feet on the ice-covered carpet. Oh, _man,_ this was great.

Jack watched, transfixed, as the young woman put her hands on her hips and looked around the room, finally selecting a corner by an armoire. Gracefully reaching out her arm, she carefully paced the perimeter of a large rectangle on the ground, a delicate streamer of frost flying out of her fingertips and falling softly onto the ice, marking the shape.

Reaching the wall, the young woman pulled her hand back, eying her work. She then spun around to face him.

"Could you please come and stand over here for a moment?" she asked sweetly.

"I—uh—yeah," Jack breathed, nodding and walking across the room towards her. "Sure thing, Snowflake."

He stepped obediently over onto the rectangle in the ice as she calmly moved around behind him.

 _SHOVE._

 _"_ _GAUGH!"_

Jack plummeted forward, the staff flying out of his hand and skittering across the frozen carpet. As his shoulder slammed into the ice, a sharp pain shooting through it again, he struggled to right himself, angrily flipping over to face her.

 _"_ _HEY!"_ he snapped, _"What the BLIZZARDS is your—"_

Propping himself up onto his arms as she stepped back, Jack's voice trailed off.

The Guardian's breath caught as he slowly looked up, his eyes following the curving lines of the young woman's shimmering, icy gown. A long slit splitting open over one of her slender legs, the fabric of the skirt elegantly rolled down to the floor in front of him, its frosty swirls and patterns gleaming in the moonlight. Skimming over the tops of her rounded hips, the ice dress then eased in onto a tiny waist, the bodice widening out again further up, snow crystals glistening at him through the soft waves of hair that were hanging down over the young woman's chest.

The Spirit of Winter just about swallowed his tongue.

After a few more moments of stunned silence, he gave his head a little shake, snapping back into focus and starting to push himself up again. The Youngest Guardian then looked back into the young woman's eyes, a flirtatious hint of smile twitching out of the side of his mouth.

"Oh—um— _hey,_ " Jack stammered hopefully, giving her a weak nod and raising his eyebrows, "Uh—ma'am—wait, HEY!"

 _FWOOM!_

He jolted as she threw her arms into the air, ice erupting out of the ground in front of him and slamming into the ceiling with a sharp _creak._ Scrambling to his feet and straightening up, Jack Frost suddenly found himself looking out, dumbfounded, through the crystalline bars of a jail cell built of ice.

The young woman lowered her arms, taking a step back from the jail cell as she brushed her hands against each other. Nodding curtly as she eyed her handiwork, she folded her arms over her chest.

"Now, _that's_ more like it," the young woman said coldly. "You're not exactly my first assassination attempt, young man. Although you _were_ the first one that was stupid enough to give yourself away, when you had the chance to kill me."

Jack was speechless as she whirled away from him, walking quickly towards a chair on the other side of the room, the ice dress trailing across the carpet behind her and sparkling in the moonlight. He shook his head vigorously, squeezing his eyes shut, and then opening them again. Opening his mouth to speak, he stepped up to the bars.

"You—you _tricked_ me!" Jack sputtered.

" _You_ broke into the queen's sleeping quarters, _in the middle of night,_ without _any_ guards being able to see you!" she snapped, spinning around to face him. " _Translation_ : My kingdom is no longer safe. Do you really think we're going to just sit down and have a nice conversation over tea?"

Jack bit his lip.

"Uh…" he ventured, "How about hot chocolate?"

" _No,"_ she snapped. "And until I find out who you are and what you're up to, you are going to _stay in that cell."_ She smiled coldly again. "Do you understand?"


	4. The Upper Hand

**CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo-throughout this entire scene. This... will be a regular thing. (I know, I know; just like in the first few chapters. But now that we've gotten started, I'm going to start actually posting warnings.) ;)**

 **.**

 **4: THE UPPER HAND**

The Snow Queen.

This was the Snow Queen of Arendelle. The powerful young monarch, the woman behind the reforms, was now standing regally before him on the other side of the bars in the form of a stunningly beautiful maiden, her cerulean blue eyes expectant, the snowy folds of her icy, elegant dress falling over her—um.

Well, those—eh, heh—her—those _hips_ , and—

Stuff.

"I said, _do you understand?"_ the young woman gritted.

He jolted back into focus. Jail cell. Captured. Interrogation.

 _Right._

"Fine," he said coldly.

She nodded curtly, whirling away from him and quickly pacing across the room towards the art gallery. As she disappeared behind the doorframe, Jack moved his foot to the side, carefully pulling his staff towards himself across the ice-covered carpet. Easing his toes underneath it, he then kicked it into the air, catching it with his hand. How had he been dumb enough to get himself into _this_ one? Despite the fact that this girl could see him (yeah, like he was walking away from THAT without any further investigation), Jack did _not_ like being locked up, tied down, or forcibly held in any way. And he did _not_ intend to cooperate.

Time to have some fun with this.

Suddenly, the young woman reappeared and was walking towards him again, holding an ink well with a quill and a long piece of parchment. Jack watched as she put the items down on her nightstand, turning and pacing across the room towards a chair.

" _Now_ , young man," she said coldly, reaching for it and beginning to pull it back towards the jail cell, "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. The choice is yours. But you should know that I recommend the former, rather than the latter."

Jack scoffed. "And what if I don't feel like telling you anything?" he retorted.

She ignored the comment, pushing the chair up to the cell and calmly stepping back, swirling her hand through the air.

 _Whoosh._

Jack's eyes bulged as a delicate, spindly end table made of ice spiraled into existence beneath her fingers. He quickly gulped down his shock, trying to maintain his feigned annoyance as he watched the young woman gracefully sweep past the chair and ice table towards her nightstand again, the snowflakes on her skirt glittering in the moonlight.

Snowflakes _._

 _Oooooooh_ , geez _…_

And she was back in front of him again, daintily placing the ink well with the quill on the icy end table. Her eyebrows lifting slightly, she sat down, drawing her hand beneath the parchment as a frosty tablet on which to write materialized in her lap.

"You have been warned," the young woman said coldly, shifting in the seat and reaching to the quill. She placed it on the parchment, looking back up into his eyes. "First things first, young man. What's your name?"

"Jack Frost."

She jolted, sucking in her breath with shock. After a few moments, looking back to him, her face fell, and she exhaled in frustration.

"A code name. Of course," the young queen sighed. "How perfect. For _my_ assassination. I meant your real name."

"But that _is_ my real name!"

"Of course it is," she muttered, visibly restraining from rolling her eyes. "But, more importantly, I need to know who wants me dead _this_ time." She sat back in the chair. "Who do you work for?"

"I'm not an assassin."

" _Who do you work for?"_ she gritted.

He raised his eyebrows again, taking a few steps away from her into the cell. Swinging the staff behind his back and catching it with his other hand, he then paused, glancing around the room in the moonlight.

 _Moonlight._

Restraining from a smirk, the Guardian of Fun looked back to the young queen through the bars. He then shrugged, glancing to the side.

"I work for him. In the window," he said casually.

She jolted, leaping out of the chair and whirling around, defensively throwing her arms forward. The air around her hands started glowing as ice particles began to materialize from her fingertips, and after a few seconds of frantically looking around the room, she shakily took a step back.

"Where is he? Can he do the _invisible_ thing, too? _"_ she shook. She frantically looked back to Jack, and then to the window, not lowering her hands. _"Show yourself!"_ she demanded.

Silence.

Jack took a step forward, raising his eyebrows.

"He isn't going to answer," he shrugged.

" _What?_ What do you mean?"

"Well…" Jack enunciated, "As a general rule… the _Man in the Moon_ doesn't usually like to talk to people."

She froze, a wave of confusion sweeping over her face. Then, letting out her breath, she rolled her eyes, lowering her arms and glaring at the young man in the cell.

"The Man… in the Moon," she repeated icily.

Jack Frost smirked.

Her eyes narrowed. Raising a single eyebrow, she slowly turned back to face him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And what do you _do_ , then?" she hissed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you're not an assassin? Working for the Man in the Moon must be _exhausting._ "

"Actually, it's a blast."

"Oh, do tell."

He paused for a moment, watching the hook of his staff twirl in the air as he absent-mindedly spun it on the ground. Catching it, he then shrugged again, looking back to her.

"I have fun—professionally," Jack said carefully.

She bent down, picking up the parchment from where she'd dropped it leaping out of her chair. "So, you're… a _professional fun-haver."_

"Well, if you don't believe me, you can go ask my boss."

"Who conveniently doesn't talk to people."

"Doesn't _like_ talking to people," Jack corrected, shooting her a flirtatious grin as she turned back to face him, having replaced the parchment on the table. "But, hey. Maybe if you asked _reeeeeeally_ nicely, he'd tell you—"

"—Why he wants me dead?"

 _"_ _I'm not an assassin!"_

Glaring at him through the bars, the young queen paused. Then, pulling herself up, she paced up to them, the icy gown flowing across the frozen carpet behind her, until she was staring directly into his eyes.

 _"_ _Listen carefully_ , young man," she shook, her face inches from his own as she glared through the bars of the jail cell, "I don't care how clever you think you are. I know that you're going to talk, and it's not because I'm going to force you. It's because of what I can _offer_ you, compared to what you have now, and you would be a _fool_ to refuse it."

He scoffed.

"Oh, _yeah?"_ Jack taunted. "Well, if you're going to insist that I'm lying, how do you know that I'm not here from some big, rich kingdom? How do you know that I'm not being paid _more_ than you can offer me, if you're so confident?"

"Because you've already given that information away in the ridiculousness of your answers and behavior."

Jack Frost fell silent. The young queen turned back to the seat, gracefully sweeping into it and crossing her legs as she launched into her analysis.

"Everything you've said and done so far works to convince me that you're part of a political extremist group, not of a specific kingdom. Which is strangely reassuring.

"You were the first man that was able to get in here without tipping off the guards—and I still don't know how you managed to _not_ have them see you. However, the fact that you _didn't_ kill me when you had the chance, and that you were so easy to capture, both indicate that you are a clever assassin, but an amateur.

"By extension, _if_ you're an amateur, then it's clear that you were either hired by an organization that doesn't have enough money for an experienced assassin, or that you're a loner with a personal vendetta against me, and delusions of grandeur.

" _Conclusion:_ You're an unattached extremist, not a declaration of war. _Conclusion:_ You don't have very much money, nor strong alliances, compared to what I can offer you in exchange for information. _If_ you choose to cooperate.

" _Conclusion_ ," she finished, drawing herself up, " _You,_ if you're smart, will be telling me _exactly_ what I want to know, starting with your affiliations. Are you a terrorist or a madman?"

She smiled sweetly.

"Uh..." Jack breathed, letting out a nervous bark of laughter and ruffling his fingers through his hair, "Dare I ask which one of those options you're more attracted to?"

She nodded. "You're a madman. Lovely."

Jack watched as the young queen quickly started scratching the quill across the parchment, then turning and dipping it a little too frantically into the ink well beside her. His eyebrows lifted slightly as she shakily pulled it back, placing its tip on the parchment again, her mask of forced calm beginning to weaken.

"A wee bit high strung—aren't we?" Jack said carefully.

She raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean, _high strung?"_

"Your hands are trembling."

She abruptly sucked in her breath, her eyes wide as she froze in her place. After a few moments, she pressed her lips together, drawing herself up and glaring at him again in forced calm.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she stated emotionlessly. "Now, if we can just—"

" _—_ _No idea what I'm talking about?_ Seriously? _Look_ at yourself!" Jack scoffed, taking a step back and gesturing to her as she blushed, " _Everything about you_ is stressed out. You come back to your secret study, after you're done working, so that you can sit down and _keep working!_ You haven't taken a break in _ages!_ Lovely lady like you, all worried and tense, and—stuff—"

"—Having just survived another assassination attempt—"

 _"—_ _I'm not an assassin!"_ Jack laughed, "I just—oh, _come on!_ When's the last time you've had any _fun?"_

"That is none of your concern."

"Actually, it is—"

"— _ACTUALLY,_ it's _NOT!"_ she burst out suddenly, leaping onto her feet.

Jack abruptly stopped talking, wincing again as she stepped up to the cage, her teeth clenched in determination.

"Do you think this is _funny?"_ she demanded.

He was speechless. After a few moments, the young queen drew herself up again.

" _You_ broke into the queen's sleeping quarters," she quavered determinately, pointing first at Jack and then to herself, "And _I_ have captured you. _I_ am directing this interrogation, young man, and _I_ will be asking the questions. _You_ will be answering them."

" _Well_ ," Jack scoffed, glancing to the bars, "It looks like we've got a problem, then. Maybe if you let me out of this stupid _cage_ thingy, I'd be more willing to talk."

" _Let you out?"_

His eyes narrowed. "I don't like being captured."

"I don't like being assassinated."

 _"_ _Aaaaurgh,"_ Jack groaned. "Look. Do you need _proof_ that I wasn't trying to kill you?"

She raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest. "Go ahead."

 _"_ _Are you alive?"_

"Well… yes," the young woman admitted.

Jack glared.

"Yeah, so I wasn't trying to kill you," he said coldly. "There's your proof. Can we _please_ take down the stupid bars now?"

" _That's_ your idea of an objective argument?" she scoffed, "Why on _earth_ would I let you out on that?"

"First off, because I never promised that the proof would be objective, and secondly, because I have complete faith in that you and I can have a normal conversation, and—"

"— _NORMAL?!"_ she sputtered, jolting as Jack took a few steps back, calmly readjusting his grip on the shepherd's crook, "How dare _you_ break into _my_ sleeping quarters, and try to tell _me_ what's _normal!_ Out of the two of us, _I_ am the one holding the upper hand, and frankly, I believe tha- _HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT?!"_

Now suddenly hovering ten feet up in the air, sitting on his staff, Jack Frost shrugged.

"Special set of skills," he grinned. "Remember?"

"But—b-but you just—"

"—Ooooooh, look at that _face!"_

She stumbled back a step, staring up at him in shock. Jack laughed, snatching the staff out from underneath his body and flipping forward in the air, tumbling to the ground.

"Driving you _crazy,_ isn't it?" he chuckled, touching down and walking towards her again. "Not knowing. You want the answers _so_ badly! Believe me, I know what that's like—"

"—You're _not_ getting out that easily," she snapped. "I'm not stupid."

"But you're _desperate_ to know how I—"

"— _I_ have a personal responsibility to Arendelle that involves a great deal of _not_ _dying_ ," she fired back. "And if you think that my curiosity is going to overrule my sense of self-preservation, you're wrong."

"Sense of _self-preser…?"_

His voice trailing off, Jack watched as the young queen turned away from him again, walking back towards the chair. As she bent down to pick up the parchment, he suddenly found himself realizing that her outstretched hand was trembling again, her shoulders slightly hunched over as she tried to draw herself up.

Why was—but _she_ had captured _him—_ why on earth would she say that, if—

Oh.

 _Oh._

Oh, no. Oh, gosh, _that_ wasn't what he wanted…

"Wait—uh," Jack quavered, taking a tiny step forward, "Are you—ma'am, are you— _scared_ of me?"

She paused.

Biting his lip, the muscles in his throat tensing with shock at the realization fell, Jack Frost sheepishly looked down at his feet.

"Ma'am?"

Sucking in her breath, the young woman suddenly whirled around to face him, gripping the parchment and tablet a little too tightly to her chest. Trying to hide it, she drew herself up, glaring at him as threateningly as she could.

 _"_ _What?"_ she snarled.

Jack stared at her eyes, suddenly aware of the terror in them, despite the rest of her cool, forced composure. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. After a few moments, he closed it again, biting his lip.

 _Please don't be scared of me._

"I—uh—you know," he stammered carefully, "I—I _might_ be willing to talk. With the bars. I mean, if the bars make you feel better."

She said nothing, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face with distrust. Jack drew himself up, pulling in his breath.

"I'm willing to make you a deal," Jack tried again.

He smiled hopefully.

The young queen stared at him, her mouth falling slightly open as she tried to decide how to respond. Raising her eyebrows, she scoffed, turning back and sitting in the chair.

"I don't make deals with assassins," she said coldly, crossing her legs. "I set the conditions, young man. Not you."

"Because you're holding the upper hand?"

"Correct."

He pondered this, glancing upwards in consideration. Letting out his breath, Jack then shook his head.

"I hate to break it to you, m'lady," he laughed softly. "But it looks like we've got another problem."

"Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "You're not actually holding the upper hand."

"And how do you figure that, young man?"

Raising his eyebrows, Jack glanced to the bars, and then looked to the young queen again. He readjusted his hold on the shepherd's crook, striding up to the front of the jail cell and dropping his voice to a whisper.

" _You_ want information. And _I_ want out of this cell thingy," he said quietly, leaning against the bars. "Basically: _You've_ got something that I want. _I've_ got something that you want. With all due respect, ma'am, I believe that _that_ puts us on exactly. Equal. Footing."

Glaring at her through the bars of the jail cell, Jack Frost curtsied.

Slowly placing the tablet and parchment on the icy end table beside her, the young queen shakily stood up. Crossing her arms over her chest, she took a few steps forward, finally stopping right in front of him on the other side of the bars.

"What kind of a— _deal—_ are we talking about, here?" she asked suspiciously.

"I was thinking of a one-for-one trade."

The girl shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Then, after a moment of worriedly biting her lip, she pulled in a quick breath, drawing herself up.

"Alright, young man," she said carefully. "Name your price."

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"One answer for one answer."

Silence.

After a few moments of visible struggle, Jack watched as the young queen's tense expression weakened, her determined, forced glare fading into a look of defeat.

"Fine," she agreed. "One answer for one answer."


	5. One-for-One

**5: ONE-FOR-ONE**

The Ice Powers Girl whirled away from him, walking back to the chair, and a rush of excitement swept through Jack's body. Restraining from a grin, he took a few steps back, eying the snowflakes on her dress as she picked up the parchment and tablet, reaching for the quill. A one-for-one trade. In other words, a chance to talk to her.

Now, _that_ he could work with.

"First things first," the girl sighed, dipping the quill in the ink well and placing its tip on the parchment. "How on _earth_ did you get in here?"

"Well," Jack admitted, "Let's just say that—busting into places hasn't ever really been hard for me."

"What do you mean, _bust in?_ Are you—"

 _"—_ _My turn!"_

She paused. After a few seconds, he raised his eyebrows.

"Oh—I'm so sorry," he corrected, "I mean: My turn. As in, it's my turn. _M'lady."_

Rolling his hand through the air, he swept into a deep, dramatic bow, his hair falling forward into his face.

She blushed. Quickly hiding it, the young woman drew herself up, clasping her hands together in her lap. Righting himself, Jack leaned up against the bars again.

"My question is the same as before, because you didn't answer it," Jack started. "I want to know how long it's been since you've had any fun."

A look of confusion swept over her face. After a few moments, she scoffed, drawing herself up.

"For _your_ information," she said coldly, "I am the Queen. I don't have _time_ for fun."

" _WHAT?!"_ he jolted, "YOU _CAN'T_ BE SERIOU—"

 _"—_ _You_ asked a question. _I_ gave you an answer," she snapped, "Now, do you intend to hold up your end of the deal, or not?"

Abruptly snapping his mouth shut, Jack pressed his lips together in frustration. Ice Powers Girl had a point.

 _Grumble grumble grumble…_

She sat back in the chair, crossing her right leg over her left and studying him through the bars. As she looked up and down his gangly frame, looking for suspicious characteristics, Jack heard the young queen muttering softly under her breath.

"The kind of devices or magic required for invisibility…" she mused, "And my guards couldn't… you got in, but… _!"_

Her eyes narrowing suspiciously, the girl suddenly looked back up into his face, pushing herself out of the chair and walking up to the cell.

"That shirt— _thing—_ you're wearing," she quavered intensely. "Take it off. Now."

Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter, grinning in shock.

"Well, _that_ escalated quickly," he chuckled, "Are you always this eag—"

"—I'm. _Checking_ you. For _weapons_ ," she enunciated. "OFF _._ "

Raising his eyebrows, Jack scoffed, taking a few steps back. After a few moments, studying the young queen's icy glare, his stomach twisted.

Aw, man.

She was _scared_ again.

Biting his lip, the Spirit of Winter turned and walked to the back of the cell, leaning his staff up against the wall. Looking back to the young woman on the other side of the bars, he sheepishly reached for his hoodie.

 _Shirt… off. Taking my shirt off. Yes, ma'am,_ he thought. _Yesssss, MA'AM..._

Crumpling it into a ball, the web of ice fading as he held his arms out from his body, the now-shirtless Jack Frost slowly let out his breath, turning all the way around in the cell while she studied him.

" _There_ ," he retorted, " _No weapons._ Are you happy?"

"Not so fast, young man. Let me see that."

"But I— _!"_

She was expectantly holding her hand out, the sharp gaze of her intelligent eyes suddenly locked with his own.

Jack gulped.

Walking back to the front of the cell and reluctantly holding it out through the bars, he watched as the Ice Powers Girl snatched it out of his hand, stepping away from him. After a few moments of turning it over in her hands, her eyes narrowed with distrust as she inspected the navy cloth, she paced back up to the cell, shoving it back to him.

"Now," Jack said coldly, pulling it back on over his head, "Is that _enough_ for you, or do I have to take off my pants, too?"

"No," she told him, returning to the chair and sitting down, "Your pants are tight. No weapons."

"Fair enough," he shrugged. _"I_ just want to know if we're still doing a one-for-one trade."

"Why?"

"Because you made me take my shirt off."

"What are you _talking_ about?"

Jack raised his eyebrows.

She jolted.

Setting her jaw, the young queen slapped her hands down onto the armrests of the chair, getting onto her feet. Walking up to the jail cell again and gesturing to the crystalline ice, she forced a cold smile.

"Will you please step forward and place your hands, _firmly,_ on these two bars?" she asked sweetly.

"Huh? Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure."

 _Ffft!_

" ** _WHY_** _do I just keep_ _ **DOING**_ _EVERYTHING you_ _ **SAY?!"**_ Jack moaned, yanking at the icy, crystalline handcuffs that were suddenly shackling him to the bars of the cell.

 **SLAP!**

" _OW!"_

Withdrawing her hand from between the bars, the young queen calmly turned and walked back to her chair, whirling around and taking a seat in one graceful swoop. "Because you're an amateur?"

"For the _laaaaaaast tiiiiiiime,"_ Jack groaned, his cheek stinging, "I _am not an assassin!"_

"Oh, _no;_ just a strange young man that breaks into women's bedrooms and _stands over them while they sleep."_

Jack froze.

"I'm not an assassin," he choked.

"Then _what are you?"_

He could feel the blood rushing to his face. Looking down and shifting uncomfortably in the handcuffs, Jack Frost pulled in a shaky, hesitant breath.

"I'm—creepy?" he squeaked.

She raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, but—in my defense," he added quickly, "I didn't realize this was a bedroom. I was in your study, and—"

" _You've been through my study?!"_

"I—!" Jack nervously blew a tuft of hair out of his eyes as the Ice Powers Girl's face went pale. "It was interesting," he tried again. "But as I said. I didn't know this was a bedroom, until I saw you."

"And after you _realized_ that it was a bedroom, you stayed because _why?"_

Jack blushed harder.

 _Because pretty._

"Uh—I was—about to leave," he choked.

They stared at each other through the bars.

Jack Frost looked down to the icy handcuffs, the sting of humiliation in the back of his throat. After a few more moments of painful silence—squeezing his eyes shut—he hesitantly looked back up into her eyes.

"Is it my turn again yet?" Jack squeaked.

She scoffed. "After the _shirt_ comment?"

"Okay, I'm _seriously_ regretting saying that—"

"—Oh _,_ good!"

 _"—_ _I was joking!_ " Jack stammered helplessly, "Oh, come on! I _swear!_ I don't want you to _actually_ take off your _—_ I mean—okay, if you really _wanted_ to, I—"

"—This is _still_ a joke to you."

Biting his lip, he fell silent. The young queen leaned forward in the chair, her hands clasped together tightly in her lap.

"This _isn't_ a laughing matter, you know," she said coldly. " _You_ broke into the queen's sleeping quarters. And when my kingdom's safety is hanging in the balance, I _promise_ you, you do _not_ want to find out what I would be willing to do, to counter that threat."

Jack blushed, quietly staring at his handcuffed wrists.

"Sorry," he choked.

"Alright. _Thank_ you," she sighed, sitting back in the chair and reaching for the tablet and parchment on the table. "Then we're going to try this again."

The girl suspiciously eyed the Youngest Guardian as he stood before her, chained to the bars of the icy jail cell, looking up and down his gangly frame as she considered her next question. Picking up the quill, dipping it in the ink well and replacing it on the parchment, she then leaned forward, gazing intently into his eyes.

"Okay, young man," she said quietly. "Who sent you?"

"Santa Claus."

" _REALLY?!"_ she gritted, slamming down the quill.

"But I'm _serious!"_ Jack protested as she rolled her eyes, "He tossed me into a magic portal from the North Pole, and _I crash-landed in the fjord!"_

She raised her eyebrows.

"Okay," Jack admitted. "That statement is probably _not_ going to help you to believe me."

"Good insight."

"How about a _follow-up_ question?"

A look of confusion swept over her face. Jack pulled in his breath again.

"If we're not back to me getting to ask normal questions yet, can I at least have a _follow-up_ question?" he pleaded. "I mean, come on. _Please._ That's not even really a full question."

The young woman's eyes narrowed. Reaching up and throwing a stray lock of hair over her shoulder, she readjusted herself in the chair, the entire icy dress sparkling as she moved.

"Fine," she sighed.

"What do you MEAN, you _don't have time for fun?"_

"I meant just what I said. I _don't_ have time for fun. I—alright, _unless_ it's with my sister," the young woman added before Jack could protest again, "But she's been very sick recently."

"Sick with what?"

"My turn."

A sly, playful little half-smile twitched out of the side of her mouth as she looked back up at him.

Jack froze.

His heart leapt, and he grinned sheepishly, sinking down a little into the handcuffs. Wow. With the _smile_ —okay, this one was really kind of a smirk, but he'd take what he could get—the Ice Powers Girl was even _prettier._ Just—well, _yeah,_ just _GIRL,_ except with ice powers, and brains, and with that—that _hair_ , and—hips, and—and that _smile,_ and—!

 _Wooooooooooooooooow._

The Snow Queen gracefully shifted in the seat again, setting the snowflakes on her gown gleaming in the moonlight, and placed the quill and tablet back on the table. Letting out a confused laugh, she leaned onto one arm of the chair, looking back up at him.

"Why are you so _concerned_ about my having fun?" she ventured.

Jack snapped back into focus. "Wait," he asked, " _That's_ your question?"

She turned, glancing to the table and reaching over to dip the quill in the ink well again. Jack shifted in the handcuffs.

"Okay," he offered. "Before I answer—because this changes what I can tell you—I have a request."

She raised her eyebrows. "And what might that be?"

He bit his lip.

"For the rest of this conversation, I want you to _pretend_ to believe me," he said quickly. "Please. Just humor me. If, for the rest of this conversation, you can _pretend_ to believe that I'm _not_ a complete lunatic, I promise, I'll answer all of your questions the _best_ I can."

She considered this for a few moments.

"Alright, young man," she said smoothly. "I can play."

"Wait, really?"

"If that's what it takes."

He grinned flirtatiously. "Can I suggest, eh, a different game, then?"

"What?"

"Never mind," he said quickly, deciding against the comment, which would without question earn him another slap. "For your question… I'm concerned about your having fun, because it's kind of my job."

"As a professional fun-haver, right?"

"Right. I mean—well," he corrected, "Not entirely. That's not my _entire_ job description."

"So, what _is_ your job description?"

Jack's heart leapt.

"Well. As long as we're _pretending_ that you'll believe me, I'll tell you," he stated, proudly drawing himself up. "I happen to be a _Guardian._ "

"A… guardian," she repeated.

"Better believe it, ma'am." Jack leaned forward against the bars, a sly little smile twitching out of the side of his mouth. "Trade places with me, and I'll guard you just fine."

Glancing to the handcuffs, and then to her again, he raised his eyebrows, flirtatiously peering up at her through his hair.

She froze.

After a few moments, the young queen sucked in her breath, shakily sitting up in the chair again and clasping her hands together in her lap. "I don't think a demonstration will be necessary," she said carefully, bringing a slight grin from Jack.

"Well, the offer's still open, if you change your mind."

She ignored the comment. "A guardian of _what?"_

"Children."

Her eyes bulged in horror.

"OH, gosh. NOT like—I—NO," Jack stammered frantically, leaping away from the bars to be caught and jerked back by the handcuffs as blood rushed to his face, "NOT like—bad timing—oh, that did not sound good—"

"—Who in _Heaven's_ name would trust _you_ with _children?!"_ she sputtered.

"Uh, the Man in the Moon?"

"Of course."

She sat back into the chair, closing her eyes for a long moment. Opening them, she looked back to Jack.

"I believe it's your turn," she said coldly.

He nodded. "So, what's your little sister sick with?"

The young queen sighed, laying the quill down on the tablet and parchment. "Pregnancy. Actually," she admitted, "A child. Maybe more than one; she's getting _huge._ She and her husband were married four months ago."

 _Nice._

"Let me guess," Jack chuckled. "Romantic honeymoon in the mountains?"

"I try not to think about it too much," she muttered, "I mean—she's my _little sister._ To think about her, and—him—just— _ugh."_

She shuddered, wincing at the thought. Jack restrained from a laugh at the regal young queen's sudden discomfort.

"So," he ventured, "You don't _like_ the guy, or…?"

"Oh, no. Kristoff's good for her," she corrected quickly, looking back to him, "It's just that—well. Never mind. At least _this_ one didn't try to cut my head off."

Jack jolted. "Wait, _what?!"_

"Long story."

Jack watched as she shrugged, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder and picking up the quill again.

" _Geez,"_ he realized. "No _wonder_ you're so uptight."

"My turn. Why can't my guards see you?"

Oh, boy.

Jack pulled in a long breath.

"I'm—sort of— _invisible—_ to people who don't believe I exist," he said carefully.

A look of confusion swept over her face. " _Invisible?"_

"Yeah," he sighed.

"But that's—"

"—You're pretending to believe me, remember?"

"But that answer is _preposterous!"_

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Well," he offered mischievously, "If you want another answer, why don't you just come over here, and— _torture_ it out of me?"

"That can be arranged."

"GAUGH!"

Jack pulled back against the handcuffs, wincing from the crystalline dagger made of ice that the young queen was suddenly holding up to his neck through the bars. He let out a nervous laugh.

" _PleasePutTheDaggerDown?"_ he choked.

"And _not_ honor your _gallant_ request? _"_ she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes, "But I thought you asked me to torture you!"

"I didn't mean, like, _ACTUALLY torture me!"_

"Then, what _did_ you mean?"

He winced, hesitantly looking up at her with one eye squeezed shut.

 _"_ _WouldYouBelieveMeIfISaidThatIWasTryingToHitOnYou?"_ Jack squeaked.

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, is _that_ was all of this was?"

 _"_ _Yes!"_

"Well," she shrugged, starting to lower the blade, "In that case, maybe I'll just—let you go."

Jack's eyes widened.

"Uh… really?"

" _No!"_

She threateningly twitched the dagger towards him again, and Jack Frost winced, suddenly racking his memory for the newspaper in the study. What was her name, again?

"Your name is Elsa," he remembered suddenly. "Right?"

"That is correct."

 _That's actually really pretty._ "Okay. Sooooo… _Elsa,"_ he ventured, watching as she pulled the dagger back through the bars and stepped away from him, "My next question is—"

"— _My turn!"_

" _WHAT?!"_

"My name is Elsa. That answers your question," she said coolly. "So, it's my turn again."

" _Aaaaaurgh…"_

"The _hovering-in-the-air_ thing," the young woman— _Elsa_ —started again, picking up the quill. " _How."_

Jack sighed, sinking into the handcuffs with defeat. "I can fly," he said. "What about it?"

"People can't fly."

"Magic people can."

She stopped writing, slowly looking up to him. "You're… magical."

"In more ways than one, Snowflake."

"What do you—"

 _"—_ _My turn!"_

Her mouth fell open. After a few moments, Jack watched Queen Elsa roll her eyes, relaxing back into the chair and looking to him.

He leaned forward against the bars, raising his eyebrows.

"Footprints… on the ceiling," Jack said slowly.

She shrugged. "I needed you to look away."

"So, you went with: _Footprints._ On the _Ceiling."_

"Yes," Elsa stated, regally drawing herself up with a little smirk. "And only the manliest of men can see them."

 _"_ _Oh!"_

She grinned mischievously, reaching over to dip the quill into the ink well. Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter, shifting in the handcuffs and shaking his head.

"A diversion, _AND_ an insult," he scoffed, raising his eyebrows as a tiny giggle escaped Queen Elsa's lips. "I'm actually sort of impressed."

"My turn again. Follow-up about the flying thing," she asked. " _How."_

"I have a staff that helps me control my powers," he admitted.

"What are you talking about?"

He pulled at the handcuffs, nodding towards his staff at the back the cell. "Okay, that stick back there?"

"Yes?"

"It's magical, too."

"Wait, what?"

 _"_ _My turn!"_

She abruptly snapped her mouth shut, pressing her lips together. Raising her eyebrows, Elsa gestured for him to ask his question.

"Okay," Jack started slowly, raising a single eyebrow, "When I was first in here…"

He paused, glancing to the bed. She nodded. "Yes?"

Jack teasingly looked up at her through his eyelashes.

"Were you just _negotiating a trade agreement,"_ he chuckled, " _In your sleep?"_

Elsa jolted, her face flushing. "So what if I was?"

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. "You _really_ need to take a break from this _Queen_ thing."

"Can't do that."

"But—"

"—In fact," she interrupted, her smile suddenly fading as she sat up, "I—I probably need to be getting back _to_ it."

"Wait, the _Queen thing?"_ he laughed. "Uh… ma'am? It's kind of the middle of the night."

" _Yes_ ," she enunciated, setting the quill to the side, "It _is._ Isn't it?"

She smiled coldly.

Jack felt blood rising to his face.

Picking up the parchment, Elsa cleared her throat, regally crossing her ankles and looking down to it. "So… to review," she sighed, "According to my notes… _Jack…"_

He nodded. "Jack Frost. Yep."

Elsa visibly restrained from rolling her eyes.

"You are currently employed by the _Man in the Moon_ as a professional fun-haver, you guard children against something you never specified, you have a magic stick that gives you the ability to fly, you're invisible to anyone that doesn't believe you exist, and you're in Arendelle _because_ …?"

She slowly looked up from the parchment, raising a single eyebrow. After a few moments, she looked back down, reading one of the final sentences.

"Because _Santa Claus_ threw you into a _magic portal_ from the North Pole," Elsa finished coldly.

Awkward silence.

"Uh… right," Jack choked.

The Spirit of Winter watched as she placed the parchment back onto the end table on top of the tablet and quill, shaking her head and pushing herself up onto her feet.

"Oooh, I did _not_ need this tonight," she mumbled miserably.

Her face pained, she forced a smile.

" _Well_ , then," the Snow Queen sighed, walking towards the art gallery, "Thank you for your cooperation. We will resume in—"

"— _But it's true!"_ Jack protested, yanking against the handcuffs again, "I—I swear it's—why are you— _?"_

His voice trailed off as she left the room, passing through the door into the art gallery. Straining to hear, Jack Frost could tell that she was at the desk, rummaging through the drawers for something.

After a few more moments, Queen Elsa was coming through the door again, the ice particles on her dress sparkling as she swept past the window, dropping a large key into a velvet bag.

"There is a private holding cell by the dungeons. It's meant to be used for— _special—_ prisoners of the King or Queen," she told him, "So, it should be empty. If my guards can't see you, I will escort you there myself."

Jack's mouth fell open as she drew herself up, closing her eyes in concentration and lifting her hands towards the bars.

" _Wait!"_

She paused, opening her eyes again.

"Can't I just stay here?" he blurted hopefully, "I mean—okay, if I can keep trying to convince you—"

"— _Magic portals?"_ Elsa snapped, " _Santa Claus?_ Oh! _The Man in the Moon?!"_

Jack Frost looked down to his feet, shifting uncomfortably in the handcuffs.

"Maybe I can convince you in the morning?" he squeaked.

She glared.

"I'm sorry," Elsa drawled. "I already have a previous engagement with the _Big Dipper_."

She whirled away from him again, tossing the bag onto the icy end table and reaching for the chair. A wave of panic sweeping through him, Jack leapt forward, gripping the bars in the handcuffs.

 _"_ _I still have my last question!"_

Queen Elsa stopped.

" _One more!"_ Jack pleaded, " _Please!_ I—I just want to ask one more question."

A long moment passed in silence.

Jack watched as the young queen let out her breath in defeat, her tense shoulders relaxing, still facing away from the cell. Crossing her arms over her chest as she shrugged her long, loose blonde locks to the side, she reluctantly let go of the chair and turned around, staring into his eyes.

"Fine," she sighed. "One more."

The quiet fell again. Jack pulled in his breath, staring at the stunningly beautiful young queen through the bars as she stood before him, her piercing, intelligent gaze locked onto his own.

He leaned forward in the handcuffs, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"How long have you believed in Jack Frost?"


	6. Believe

**6: BELIEVE**

Queen Elsa's mouth fell open in shock.

Crossing her arms tighter over her chest, she abruptly looked down, stumbling back a step as her face went pale.

"Wh-who says I believe in Jack Frost?" she stammered.

Jack raised a single eyebrow.

"You believe in Jack Frost," he stated emotionlessly. " _Please_ just trust me on this one."

"And—and that's _n-not a question!"_ she protested, blinking frantically, "That's an accusation!"

"Is it a true one?"

"How would _you_ know?"

"Ma'am, you're _shaking."_

She abruptly cut herself off, snapping her mouth shut. Frozen into her place, Jack watched as she stared even more determinately at the ground, a few flurries of snow beginning to materialize out of the air around her in the place where she stood.

Pulling against the handcuffs, he leaned forward again.

"Okay. I'm changing my question. And, you haven't answered it yet, so I get to do that," he added.

Elsa didn't look up, crossing her arms tighter over her chest.

"I don't want to know how _long_ you've believed in Jack Frost," Jack said quietly. "I want to know _why."_

The Snow Queen closed her eyes, pressing her lips together as the few flurries of snow fell around her, floating towards the frozen carpet and glistening in the moonlight. Opening her eyes again—but not relaxing—she slowly looked up into his eyes, walking to the jail cell.

"This one will take another deal," Elsa shook.

Jack shifted in the handcuffs, letting out a breathy bark of laughter as she came to a stop in front of him.

"You _know_ ," he muttered under his breath, "For someone that _doesn't make deals with assassins,_ and AAAAH HA HA HA, DEALS ARE GREAT; I LOVE DEALS!" Jack sputtered desperately, wincing away from the blade that was suddenly against his neck again.

"In asking me why I believe in Jack Frost, you are asking me to reveal what is nothing short of my deepest, _darkest_ secret, to a _total stranger,_ " she quavered intensely, gripping the ice dagger as her eyes watered, "You have no— _idea—_ what that name means to me. I have _rational_ evidence that Jack Frost exists, and if I ever find him— _when_ I find him—I will know."

Jack Frost bit his lip, nodding quickly as he tugged at the crystalline handcuffs chaining him to the bars. "Uh—yeah," he shook, eying the dagger. "And I think you're closer than you rea _LIZE—!"_

He abruptly sucked in his breath, cut off as she threateningly pressed the dagger against his neck.

" _Do you not believe me?"_

 _"_ _ACK! NO!_ I mean, _YES!"_ Jack sputtered frantically, wincing as she pressed the blade of the dagger harder against his neck, "I—I do! I believe you!"

She set her jaw, glaring at him suspiciously.

" _Look,"_ Jack pleaded, putting his hands up as far as he could in the handcuffs, "I know it's crazy, but this question is— _really_ —important to me. And, uh, it's clearly a big deal to you, too."

She glared into his eyes, her hand trembling slightly on the dagger. As he stood, frozen, in the handcuffs, Jack then watched as she shakily lowered it away from his neck, taking a step back.

"Okay," Elsa quavered, "But I—have a condition."

"What's that?"

"If—if I tell you this—if I answer that question," she whispered intensely, "You must _promise—_ on _threat of your life_ —to tell me who you are."

Jack said nothing, staring at the young woman in shock. After a few moments, he nodded.

"You're willing to make that deal?" she asked.

"I can't promise that you're going to believe me," he said, "But yeah. I promise to tell the truth."

"In this deal, I'm trading the deepest, _darkest_ secret of my childhood to _you_ —in exchange for _your name,"_ she whispered, "You're really sure that the knowledge of your identity will be worth _that_ kind of a price, to me?"

"I'm pretty sure it will," Jack nodded.

"How do you know that?"

"I don't."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I don't know," Jack said softly. "But I believe."

He pleading gazed into her piercing eyes through his hair, biting his lip as the Snow Queen studied his face. Exhaling slowly, she gave him a little nod, taking a step back.

" _Deal_ ," she whispered.

Turning and walking towards the chair, Queen Elsa pulled in a long breath.

"Back when—back when I was a little girl," she sighed, slowly turning back towards him, "My parents were told by an—expert—that I needed to learn to control my powers. And they listened. Or—at least—at least, they _thought_ they did."

Jack said nothing, gazing into the young queen's face as she gingerly placed the dagger on the end table. The girl closed her eyes, taking another deep breath.

"I mean—they really just wanted me not to _have_ ice powers, but—well," she laughed bitterly, "Giving me gloves to wear and locking me up in my room seemed to be the next-best solution. You know—until I could learn to conceal them."

Jack's heart leapt into his throat.

"They wanted you to— _conceal_ your powers?" he breathed.

"Yes."

The word sent him reeling.

A wave of nausea sweeping over his body, Jack stumbled backwards in horrified confusion, his wrists catching in the handcuffs.

 _Conceal?_

"I must have spent—I must have spent _hundreds_ of hours, watching for him," Elsa admitted, shaking her head with a breathy giggle. "Staring out of my bedroom window. I mean, I could _see_ from the frost patterns—I knew that Jack Frost had been there. At least, he'd flown by Arendelle, during the night. But I—I always seemed to _miss_ him…"

Snapping his head back up, Jack watched in horrified silence as the beautiful young queen slowly walked towards the window, sadly gazing out into the night as she crossed her arms over her chest. The snowflakes on her skirt sparkling in the moonlight, she shook her head.

"I suppose that it's a little childish," Elsa admitted softly, still staring out of the window, "But—well, from all the records, and stories, and accounts—it was all too _consistent._ I— _know—_ he's real," she blushed, shrugging embarrassedly, "He—he _has_ to be! At least, he was to me, for all those years. The Legend of Jack Frost wasn't just a story to me. For all those years of being locked up, alone, in my room—the Legend of Jack Frost was the only real hope I ever had."

The twisting spirals of frost on her gown glinting as she moved, Elsa reached forward to the window, gently pushing the curtain back. After a few moments, pensively crinkling the edge of the thick fabric between her fingertips, she let it fall back into place, folding her arms over her chest again.

"I suppose I just figured that—if Jack Frost wasn't a monster, for having ice powers—then, maybe—maybe _I_ wasn't either," she breathed, looking to her feet. "Despite the fact that I lived in— _terror—_ of what might happen, if anyone ever found out about them—the darkest secret of my childhood _wasn't_ that I had ice powers."

She sighed, looking back to the window again.

"It was that I had _found Jack Frost_ ," she choked, "The darkest secret of my childhood was the fact that I was never— _completely—_ convinced—that my ice powers were _bad_."

The Spirit of Winter was dumbfounded.

Jack watched as pale young woman in the gown of ice shook her head, crossing her arms tighter over her chest and staring at her feet. A few locks of blonde hair falling over slender shoulders as she hunched them forward, the Youngest Guardian could practically feel the years of loneliness and isolation emanating from her fragile form, piercing through the silence of the icy, moonlight-soaked bedroom. To even— _imagine—_ that this beautiful girl would be taught that her ice powers were bad, let _alone_ be shut up in her room for so long, made his heart stop cold. To Jack Frost, to even _think_ that _anyone_ would suffer such intense pain and isolation was devastating.

It was devastating because he understood it.

" _That,"_ Elsa gritted suddenly, whipping around and making him jump, "Is why I believe in Jack Frost. So, go ahead. Go home to whomever you work for, and tell them. Tell them that I'm insane. Tell them that the _reigning queen of Arendelle_ swears her allegiance to a _storybook_ character!"

Visibly fighting back tears, she bit her lip, drawing herself up and determinately pacing back towards the icy jail cell.

"I don't know who you are," she shook, snatching up the dagger as she passed the table and pointing it at him in the gesture, "And frankly, I don't care. But I swear to you—and I swear, on everything that I've _ever_ believed in—you can laugh at me, and mock me, and ridicule me, and I will let it be swept away in the wind. But please allow me to make one thing _abundantly_ clear."

Jack sucked in his breath as Elsa suddenly swept up to the bars, threateningly raising the dagger up to his neck as she leaned in close to his face.

"You will not. _Ever._ Insult the name of Jack Frost," she whispered intensely, " _In. Front. Of. Me."_

They stared into each other's eyes in silence.

Her teeth clenched, lips pressed together, Jack watched as a wave of nervousness began to sweep over the girl's features, the mask of power beginning to fade, as if she was only now remembering that she was supposed to be frightened. Visibly fighting it, Queen Elsa closed her eyes, slowly pulling in her breath as she lowered the dagger and stepped back away from him.

"Now," she quavered, shakily turning away and reaching for the tablet and parchment, "It's your turn. I fulfilled my end of the deal."

Jack stood, frozen, on the other side of the bars, his face pale. She picked up the items, turning back around to face him and drawing herself up.

" _So_ ," Elsa exhaled. "I believe that you owe me your name."

And the silence fell again.

His heart sinking into his stomach, Jack pulled in his breath to speak.

 _"_ _I—!"_ he squeaked.

After a few moments, he bit his lip, looking down to the handcuffs in silent despair. The unspoken words hitting her, Queen Elsa's mouth fell open in shock, her eyes widening.

"It— _n-no,"_ she whimpered, "You—b-but you p-promised—"

 _"—_ _I'm sorry!"_ Jack sputtered helplessly, his face draining in horror as the queen's eyes started to well up with tears, "I—if I could say anything different, I would, but—"

"—You _promised!"_ she gasped, "You—you _promised! You LIAR!"_

"I—"

"—I _gave in!"_ she sobbed, "I _trusted_ you! I revealed the deepest, _darkest_ , most _humiliating_ secret of my childhood to a _total stranger,_ and you don't even have the _decency_ to keep your end of the deal!"

"Elsa, I—"

"— _Shut up!"_

He abruptly did so, his heart frozen as the beautiful young queen whirled around, flurries of snow beginning to materialize out of the air around her as she walked away from him. Jack's stomach twisted, the sudden realization falling onto him like a ton of bricks.

Crying.

She was _crying._

"That's what I get! For making _deals with assassins!"_ Elsa gasped, her back shaking as she struggled to keep her breathing even. "And you do _not_ get to call me by my first name! _Especially_ when you don't even have the _basic humanity_ to tell me yours!"

" _Queen Elsa,"_ Jack sputtered, "Look—I don't know how to convince you, but I swear—I swear on my _life,"_ he said fervently, staring at her as he gripped the bars, " _I'm not lying. I am who I say I am!"_

 _"_ _YOU—!"_

"—My name is Jack Frost," he interrupted, "I'm a Guardian, and if I'd had _any_ idea that you existed before tonight, I _promise_ you, I would have showed up before now!"

She was silent, her back still shaking as she stayed turned away from him, the flurries swirling harder and faster around her delicate frame. Pulling in his breath again, Jack shifted in the handcuffs, leaning as far as he could through the bars.

"I have—no— _idea—_ how to apologize," he choked, "But I swear, if I'd had _any_ clue that you were here, I _would_ have come to find you! I promise—with everything I've got—you _wouldn't have been alone!_ "

She shook her head, letting out a sharp gasp of bitter laughter. "Because— _you—_ are Jack Frost," she scoffed, not turning around.

" _But I am!"_

"Jack Frost? _In my room?"_ she sputtered, her face flushing as she spun back to face him, "Oh, yes, you are _d-definitely_ Jack Frost. Ice powers and all, which you have _yet_ to demonstrate, and— _!"_

Queen Elsa gasped, cutting herself off. Still handcuffed to the bars, the Spirit of Winter had turned his hand over in the air, raising his eyebrows as a shimmering mist of ice particles materialized above his fingertips.

After a few more moments of silence, Jack Frost bit his lip.

"Okay. I admit it," he stammered, "I probably should have done that earlier. Could you take off the handcuffs now?"

She said nothing, paralyzed on the other side of the bars, her jaw dropped as she stared with disbelief at the cluster of snowflakes dancing above his palm. The flurries of snow that had been materializing around her had frozen in the air, the tiny snowstorm in every bit as much shock as she was.

Jack felt his stomach twist again.

Pulling in a deep breath, he shook his head, then gazing intently up at her through his hair.

"Queen Elsa, I'm _not going to hurt you,_ " he said softly. "Now, could you _please—"_

 _"—_ _How do I know this isn't a trick?"_ she stammered, the flurries beginning to softly fall towards the carpet again. "How do I know tha—"

"—You don't."

She quickly closed her mouth again, pressing her lips together.

"Technically, you don't know," Jack repeated, gazing into her eyes. "I mean—you _can't_."

"So why would I—"

"—Because, sometimes, _the truth sounds crazy_ ," he whispered intensely. "But that doesn't make it any less true."

She looked down, her entire body tense.

"Then how do I know that this isn't a bad idea?" she choked.

Jack closed his eyes. After a long moment of silence, he opened them again, staring at her from inside the cell.

"You're just going to have to believe in me, aren't you?" Jack said softly.

He held out his wrists through the bars.

Looking into her beautiful face, Jack could see the conflict in her eyes as she stood, frozen, on the other side of the bars, frantically looking from his hair, to his staff, to the icy patterns on his hoodie, and back into his eyes.

"Please?"

Elsa stared at the handcuffs.

Her hands pulled into her stomach, she worriedly bit her lip. After a few more moments of hesitation, the Snow Queen pulled in a deep breath, stepping up to the jail cell and closing her eyes.

She swept her hands over Jack's wrists.

 _Whoosh._ The icy handcuffs started disintegrating into a shimmering mist, and Jack jolted, staring with disbelief as the delicate swirl of frost lifted, rushing into the air as the young woman called it from him. As the last of the ice disappeared, he shakily pulled his hands back through the bars, turning them over and staring at them in wonder.

She could _melt_ it, too?

His mouth falling slightly open in shock, Jack Frost gave his head a little shake, smiling shyly and looking up to Elsa again. She nodded, swallowing hard. Her eyes wide as she nervously watched him, Jack turned around, rubbing his wrists and walking to the back of the cell.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Elsa stammered.

Calmly picking up his staff, Jack turned back to face her, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm thanking you," he replied softly.

Flipping the shepherd's crook forward over his wrist, he tapped it twice on the ground, then sweeping it to the side.

There was an audible gasp, and Jack looked up to see Elsa clap her hand over her mouth, leaping backwards with shock as the delicate cloud of frost billowed past her feet over the frozen carpet. Feeling his heart skip a beat, the Youngest Guardian grinned sheepishly, turning slightly away from her as he crouched down to the floor.

Elsa took a hesitant step towards the cell, watching through the bars as the Spirit of Winter carefully put down his staff, reaching forward and beginning to draw in the dusting of snow. As he finished tracing out the shape, Jack closed his eyes, drawing in his breath in concentration as he reached down for it, slowly pulling his hands upwards.

Glimmering in the moonlight, the long, elegant flower lifted easily out of the frost, a fine blue mist floating above his fingertips as he carefully held it, standing up again on his feet. Feeling the girl's wide-eyed gaze upon him, the Spirit of Winter pulled in a deep breath.

The ice hardened with a soft creaking as he gently blew over the surface of the mist, the shimmering particles freezing together into a gleaming, crystalline rose. A smile tugging at the edge of his mouth, Jack Frost gingerly tossed it to himself, turning around and walking back to the front of the jail cell, stopping in front of the wide-eyed, paralyzed young queen.

He hesitated. After looking down to the flower—trying to decide what to say—the Guardian of Fun pulled in his breath.

"For believing in me," Jack said softly.

Bending over into a respectful bow, he held the rose out through the bars.

The muscles in his lower back beginning to strain as he waited, patiently holding out the ice flower, Jack looked upwards, peering through his white hair at the beautiful young queen on the other side of the crystalline bars. Staring at the rose with disbelief, Elsa was frozen in her place, her mouth hanging open with shock.

Her hand trembling, Jack watched as she pulled in her breath, shakily reaching out to the gleaming flower.

As she gingerly took it, the ice sliding from his fingers, Jack pushed himself up on his staff, taking a few steps back into the jail cell. The Ice Powers Girl's eyes were wide with disbelief as she hesitantly inspected the rose, shakily running her fingers the length of its delicate, crystalline stem as a look of wonder crept over her features.

She gasped.

Jack Frost's heart leapt as Elsa snapped her head up, looking first at him, and then back to the rose, her eyes watering. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she let out a sharp, breathy giggle of shock, then gasping again stumbling back a step. Her cheeks flushing, Elsa whirled away from him, clutching the rose to her chest.

"Okay," she giggled breathily, "Now, I _know_ I'm dreaming."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Pretty sure it's not a dream—"

"—It makes _perfect_ sense," Elsa bubbled, spinning around, "This reform—well, it's the biggest one I've tried yet. And The Council isn't going to be happy, so, of _course_ my subconscious would have _Jack Frost_ show up in my dreams!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well—to give me courage, of course!" she laughed, shaking her head and looking back down at the rose. "And, I do need it. This reform must be _really_ important. I mean, for my brain to pull such a _powerful_ symbol of strength and rebellion out of my memories."

 _A symbol of Strength and Rebellion?_

" _That's_ what Jack Frost means to you," he breathed.

"You're my subconscious. You tell me."

The young queen giggled again, looking down to the ice rose and wistfully running her fingers over the bloom. Shaking her head, she threw back her hair, her cheeks flushing.

" _Oh,_ the human mind is a _wonderful_ thing!" Elsa sighed happily, clutching the rose and spinning around, "This is the loveliest dream I've ever had."

"This feels like a dream to you?"

"Well—of _course_ not!" she giggled, leaning against the bed and looking at the rose. "Dreams always feel real, when you're _in_ them. In fact, I—I— _!"_

Her voice trailed off. A strange expression sweeping over her face, Jack watched as the Snow Queen carefully placed the ice rose on her nightstand, pushing herself off from the bed. A few rogue flurries of snow materializing out of the air around her, she slowly walked across the room to the jail cell, finally stopping in front of him, the icy fabric of her gown sparkling in the moonlight. Looking down to his shirt, she then lifted her hand, hesitating for a long, silent moment.

Elsa reached through the bars, and placed her palm squarely on his chest.

A jolt of electricity shot through his body, and Jack sucked in his breath, looking down her hand in shock. He could feel it. On top of the ice crystals on his hoodie, he could feel the gentle pressure of the Snow Queen's palm pressing through the fabric.

She was— _touching_ him.

She—it—it _wasn't going through_. She was TOUCHING him.

Holding his breath, Jack carefully moved one of his hands off the staff. Glancing up into her eyes—and realizing that she was still studying the ice patterns on his chest—he then reached up, placing his hand on top of hers.

His heart pounding, a wave of relief swept over him as he gingerly rubbed his thumb across her palm, feeling the distinct and still unfamiliar sensation of having someone else's skin against his own. The Snow Queen's hand was soft.

And— _cold_.

"That's… _ice_ ," the young queen breathed. "Isn't it?"

"I—um, yeah," Jack laughed nervously, shifting on his feet as she felt the fabric, "It—it is."

She smiled, her cheeks flushing as she delicately felt the ice crystals on his hoodie, and Jack's heart leapt. Grinning sheepishly as he ran his thumb over hers again, he looked down to his chest, and then back up into her deep blue eyes.

The Snow Queen's smile was so beautiful…

"In fact… well," Elsa whispered, making Jack snap back into focus, "As… as long as I'm dreaming…"

A strange, dreamy expression swept over her face, and the Youngest Guardian felt his heart start pounding as she slid her hand up towards his neck, gingerly feeling the frozen ice crystals webbed out across the fabric. Jack Frost then felt the young queen start to curl her fingers around the front edge of his hood.

"Uh—ma'am?" he asked softly, _"_ What are—what are you doin- _MMPH!"_

Jack startled, jolting and dropping the staff with shock as she yanked him forward, her lips suddenly smashing against his own. The shepherd's crook fell into the bars with a loud _clank,_ and he froze, every muscle in his body paralyzed.

And it was over as suddenly as it had begun, as he felt her let go of his hoodie, breaking from the kiss and victorious stepping away from the bars. Gasping for breath, his eyes bulging, Jack Frost stumbled backwards into the cell, staring at the beautiful young queen in shock.

"It's sad to think that all of this will be gone in the morning. But it was _wonderful_ , while it lasted," Elsa giggled breathlessly. "It's been nice to meet you… _Jack Frost."_

Paralyzed behind the crystalline bars of the cell, Jack watched in blank shock as the young woman turned away from him, walking back towards her bed. Shakily reaching up and touching his lips, still trying to catch his breath, he nodded weakly.

"You too," he breathed.

Fully dressed, the young queen then crawled back under the covers, gave the Spirit of Winter one last, dreamy little smile as she closed her eyes, and fell asleep.


	7. Real

**ILLUSTRATION AVAILIBLE:** Hey, guys! This is NopeNotTelling, in June of 2017, speaking. So, I want to learn how to draw, and adding some illustrations to go with Ice Alliance seems like a good enough excuse to do so. If anybody's interested, I've made a tumblr to post the stuff (AUGH! SO TERRIFYING!), and just posted my first attempt at an illustration for the end of the last chapter. If you have any feedback or tips for me, I'd love to hear them! Thanks for being awesome, and I hope you have a fantabulous day! :) (If you search nopenottelling-dot-tumblr-dot-com, you'll find me.) ;)

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 **7: REAL**

Elsa could feel the unwelcome brightness of the morning sunlight on her eyelids long before she opened them, the weight of exhaustion pounding against the inside of her forehead. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned slightly in the covers, trying to place the inexplicable trepidation clouding her mind.

Oh… right. It was today.

Feeling strangely constricted in her stomach, the young queen reluctantly drug herself back into consciousness, fighting against the sweeping feeling of dread rushing through her body as she sat up. The housing reform. Oh, dear, that housing reform. _This_ was going to be unpleasant…

Elsa groaned, sliding her fingers into her hair. It was strangely light, for being so early. If she wasn't up and about by eight o'clock, the guards were instructed to get a maid to come in and wake her, and she hadn't heard any such thing. The meeting was at ten. If it wasn't yet eight, then it meant that she had a couple of hours to prepare herself, before—

 **"** ** _But SOFT!_** **"**

 _GAUGH!_

Elsa jolted, whipping her head around to locate the source of the sound.

 **"** ** _What light through yonder window breaks!"_** the voice laughed as she looked up, " _It is the east!_ And your finally, FINALLY being up, is the sun…"

On the other side of her bedroom, hovering up by her ceiling, a gangly, white-haired young man was floating upside-down in an icy jail cell. Effortlessly hanging from a gnarled shepherd's crook by his knees, he reached forward to touch the frozen wall in front of his face, casually drawing in the frost with his pointer finger.

He sucked in a long breath, pressing his chin in towards his neck.

 _"_ _Arise,_ fair sleepy person _, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief,"_ he finished dramatically, thwapping his hand over his heart, _"That thou, her maid, art more fair than she…_ "

He reached forward again and swept his hand over the frost, and a cluster of snowflakes burst out from underneath his fingertips, catching the sunlight as they fell. Without righting himself, the young man grinned, turning and looking at her.

"Morning, Snowflake," he chuckled.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat, her eyes bulging as the memories came flooding back into her mind. Ripping back the covers, she looked down to her stomach and realized with horror that she was fully dressed, wearing a hastily-formed blue gown made of ice.

"I hope you're not expecting any more than that," the boy laughed, making her jump again. "Because that's all I've got. Bunny would've thrown something at me by now."

"But you—you— _!"_

"—Also, I do _not_ recommend picking a fight with The Moon."

"I— _!"_

Blood rushing to her face, Elsa shook her head, dropping the edge of the blanket. Frantically twisting around, she flipped over and reached for her nightstand, snatching up the elegant ice rose and staring at it in shock _. It was real_ —the cold, smooth ice was leaving its characteristic chill against her fingers as she held it, the crystalline rose every bit as elegant and perfect as it was in the dream.

It was real.

 _It. Was. REAL._

"But—b-but you—!" Elsa choked.

She snapped her head up helplessly, staring at the young man in the jail cell with horror. Still hanging from the floating staff, he raised his eyebrows.

"I'm still here?" he offered.

Elsa said nothing, but blushed furiously, leaning over and gingerly placing the ice rose back on her nightstand. The young man laughed again, turning back to the wall as she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"It's good to sleep in sometimes. You obviously needed it," he said casually. "I'm glad you're up, though. I was about to start chucking snowballs at you to see if you were still alive."

"Sleep in?" Elsa asked quizzically, "What are you _talking_ about? If I'd slept past eight, a maid would have come and woken me."

"Oh, is that who that was?"

She jolted. "Wait, _what?"_

"Well—a while ago, somebody was trying to get in," the young man admitted, still hanging upside-down from the staff, "But they couldn't get through the ice."

Her face went pale. " _I overslept?"_ Elsa gasped.

"I guess. I was wondering if I should try to get you up, but you looked really tired, so—"

"— _I OVERSLEPT!?"_

Before he could respond, Elsa was leaping from the bed, scrambling onto her feet and sprinting for the art gallery. Oh, no. _Ooooh_ , no, no, no, no, _NO;_ this was _not happening!_

Rounding the corner of the doorframe, she whipped around, running over to her desk. _Good_. Yes. There it was. The file. The housing reform file. Everything ready to go. Oh, thank _heavens_ she'd put it together the night before…

Snatching up the folder, Elsa whirled back, picking up the edge of her skirt and running for the bedroom. Scrambling around the corner of the doorframe again, she ran over to the dresser, slapping the file down onto its surface and looking to the jail cell.

"Do you know what time it is?" she blurted.

"Uh, daytime?"

"Helpful."

Sprinting back across the room, she burst into the art gallery, running for the desk.

Reaching it, Elsa frantically shuffled through the papers, shoving the in-progress ice statue to the side. It was here somewhere—her father's old pocketwatch, left behind when he had boarded the ship almost four years ago, that had become her personal clock in this secret study.

Yanking open the drawer and picking up a stray envelope, a glint of gold caught Elsa's eye.

Jolting, she reached into the drawer for the chain, carefully pulling up the little watch. The morning sunlight glinting off its face, she squinted. Nine forty-seven.

Thirteen minutes until the meeting.

Oh, thank heavens.

Replacing it by the envelopes, Elsa shoved the drawer in and turned around, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Pushing herself off from the desk, she then shakily pulled in her breath, her head reeling as her mind began to catch up with her racing heart.

Thirteen minutes. If she changed in two minutes, did her hair in three minutes, spent thirty seconds freshening up the previous day's makeup, and skipped breakfast entirely, there was still enough time to get to the Council. She would get to the Council, introduce the reform, have the Councilmen inevitably try to rip it apart, calmly destroy their arguments, and then push it through, after which point she would reward herself by spending the rest of the day with Anna, and eating massive quantities of chocolate to calm down. She would be calm. She would be _calm,_ and it would be _fine,_ because _she was the Snow Queen._ There was still enough time to get ready. The file had been prepared the night before. Everything was in line for the reform.

Jack Frost was in her room.

The realization hitting her again, Elsa felt a wave of nausea sweep over her body, followed by panic. Jack Frost was in her room. _HOW WAS JACK FROST IN HER ROOM?!_

In a jail cell.

Built of _ice._

Oh, the irony. Elsa's head started swimming again, and she collapsed back against the desk, clapping her hand to her forehead.

 _Wait. Slow down,_ she thought desperately, mentally scolding herself and trying to pull in a deep breath, _You don't KNOW he's Jack Frost. He could still be just a really, really clever assassin._

 _Who can fly._

 _And has ice powers._

 _And perfectly fits every single credible description of Jack Frost you've ever read, except for the part about being breathtakingly handsome and HOUSING REFORM! FOCUS!_

Shaking her head vigorously, as if trying to shake the thought from her mind, she jumped and determinately stomped forward, pulling her blue used-to-be-coronation ice gown off of its hanger as she paced quickly back towards her room.

Stepping through the doorway, Elsa looked up and gasped.

All across her corner on the opposite side of the room, covering up the two solid walls in the cell and spilling out beyond the edges of the bars, was a delicate dusting of snow. Rising out of the snow itself were dozens and dozens of ice flowers; roses and lilies, sunflowers and morning glories, all sizes and varieties of flora, with their blooms reaching out from the wall in delicate, crystalline ice statues, as if they had been halfway-pulled up from the frosty drawings in a stunningly beautiful, elaborate mural of ice.

The Spirit of Winter was— _doodling_.

She crept forward in wonder, her eyes wide as she watched the white-haired young man, still hanging upside-down by the ceiling, pull his pointer finger back, finishing a traced-out etch of a petunia. Taking in a deep breath, he slowly reached for it, the dusting of frost shimmering as he gently pulled the drawing out from the wall. As the mist hovered before him, holding the shape of the flower, he guided a long breath of air across it.

The petals instantly hardened into solid ice, the blossom creaking and gleaming as it did so, joining the dozens of other intricate flowers reaching out of her wall. Noticing Elsa's jaw-dropped staring, the young man craned his head back, his white hair hanging as he looked to her. Color rising to his cheeks, he looked at Elsa.

And then back to the wall.

And then to Elsa again.

"I got bored," he said simply.

She said nothing, clutching her coronation gown to her chest and staring at him in awe.

After a few moments, he reached up, grasping his staff and slowly pulling himself over in the air.

"Uh..." he added, smiling sheepishly, "And—and girls like flowers. Right? So, I figured—"

"—That's bad for the wallpaper," Elsa blurted.

His mouth fell open in shock.

"Says the girl that _froze the carpet?"_ the young man sputtered. "You _froze_ the _CARPET,_ and you're worried about the _wallpaper?"_

" _My_ ice doesn't melt unless I want it to," she retorted. "It's _different_."

"Was that supposed to be an insult?"

"I—"

"—Because it _sounded_ like an insult."

"I—!"

Elsa snapped her mouth shut, looking down to the dress in her arms and blushing furiously. That wasn't _her_ ice, on the wall. And he—the young man—was _definitely—_ floating. That was—it—the _dream_ —well, if he _wasn't_ Jack Frost, then—?

The young man in the jail cell was laughing softly under his breath, and Elsa jolted back into focus. His eyes playful, he smiled good-naturedly, snatching the staff out from under his thighs and tumbling forward through the air to land silently on the ice-covered carpet below. Spinning around to face her as he swung his shepherd's crook behind his back and caught it, the white-haired young man walked towards the bars.

"You're wondering if you kissed me," he chuckled.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

Fighting back the heat rushing to her face, she regally drew herself up. "Why on _earth_ would I wonder _that?"_ Elsa scoffed.

"Because you did?"

She froze.

Shrinking from the boy's piercing gaze, Elsa readjusted her grip on the dress, clutching it tightly to her chest and looking down to her feet.

"You have no proof of that," she stammered.

"Actually…"

Reaching his left hand across, the young man pushed up his opposite sleeve, then making a fist and turning his forearm around to her. Her throat tightening with shock, Elsa realized that a long, shimmering, deep crimson mark was smeared across his pale skin, like he had wiped his forearm across his mouth, and had rubbed off…

Lipstick.

Oh, no.

Blushing furiously, Elsa stumbled back a step, her mouth falling slightly open with shock. The young man raised his eyebrows again, glancing to his arm, and then flirtatiously peering back at her through his eyelashes.

"I wouldn't have wiped it off," he grinned. "But I kind of wanted to keep it. You know—as proof?"

"Well—maybe it's not," Elsa squeaked. "It could be a bruise."

"A _sparkly_ bruise?"

"It could happen."

"Really _._ "

 _"_ _It could!"_

He laughed, then grinning flirtatiously at her again, glancing to her lips before looking back into her eyes. " _Well_ , ma'am," he said casually, "If you're not convinced, you could give me another sample for color comparison, and—"

 _"—_ _Ugh!"_

Elsa abruptly whirled away from him, shaking her head and pacing harshly across the room with the dress. The sharp sting of humiliation in her throat, she threw the gown onto her bedspread, taking a few steps back and starting to reach to her stomach to melt the one she was wearing.

Suddenly remembering the young man in the jail cell, she paused, turning around to face him. Setting her jaw, Elsa stomped on the ground, pulling her arms into the air.

 _Rumble rumble rumble._

A tall, thick wall of ice rose up in front of her. Nodding curtly, Elsa turned around and reached for the dress she was wearing.

There was a snort from the other side of the room divider.

"You _could_ have just asked me not to look," he scoffed.

Feeling the familiar sensation of the ice of her current dress flying off her body, a shimmering mist in the morning light as it disintegrated, Elsa scoffed.

"I don't know what it's like where _you're_ from," she retorted coldly, "But in _my_ kingdom, it's seen as _poor taste_ for a lady to change clothes in front of a man she's known for under twelve hours."

"Touché."

Picking up the gown on her bed, Elsa carefully drew her finger down the front of its bodice, melting a long slash into the icy fabric, and then stepping into it, pulling the dress up over her hips. She could have simply made a new one, but this was her coronation gown—or, at least, it _was,_ before she'd turned it into ice. She had briefly changed it in the previous summer for Anna's birthday party, but nostalgia had gotten the better of her, and she'd eventually reverted it to its original color and shape. Elsa had developed a habit of wearing it to all her important royal affairs, and the unusual events of the previous night were _not_ going to change anything about the way she ran her kingdom.

Even if they _did_ involve Jack Frost.

And—kissing him.

Apparently.

Pulling on her sleeve, Elsa felt heat rushing to her face. Ooooh, she could not _believe_ that she had done that. When one was _The Queen_ , there were _some_ things that one simply _did not do,_ and awarding kisses to random scoundrels in the middle of the night was about ten of them. Even if Said Random Scoundrel _was_ Jack Frost.

She paused.

 _I kissed Jack Frost?_

Elsa's mouth fell open at the realization. As she slowly looked up, pulling on her other sleeve, a hint of a dreamy little smile tugged at the edge of her mouth.

Well—um—heh. That—that was actually kind of _FOCUS, ELSA! FOCUS!_

Jolting, she blushed, shaking her head vigorously and freezing the slit in the front of the dress back together. She didn't— _know—_ he was Jack Frost. And she needed to concentrate. The Council. The housing reform. How much time had she wasted already?

 _STUPID girl!_ Elsa scolded herself desperately as she ran over to the mirror and dresser, _Stupid, stupid, STUPID!_

Ignoring the young man in the cell, she yanked out the top drawer, frantically shoving the irrelevant cosmetics to the side in search of her eyeshadow.

"Sheesh," he scoffed, "What's with all the rush?"

Finding her little brush, she ignored him. "I _wasn't_ supposed to sleep in that long," Elsa snapped, reaching for a compact.

"You're exhausted!"

" _I'M LATE!"_

"Late for what?"

Setting her jaw and slamming down the brush, she whipped around to face him. _"The revolution I'm supposed to be leading?!"_

"Wait, wait, wait. A _Queen—_ leading a _revolution?"_ he laughed as Elsa angrily spun back around to shove the drawer in, "A little counter-productive, don't you think?"

"Okay. It's not _really_ a revolution," she mumbled, flicking open the compact, "But—but it needs to happen. So, I'm making it happen."

"Making _what_ happen?"

"That is none of your concern."

Elsa snatched up the little brush again, swirling it around in the lilac-colored power and beginning to sweep it onto her eyelids. "Did you _really think,"_ she scoffed, "That _all it takes_ to make a queen spill her kingdom's secrets is for a handsome young man to break into her sleeping quarters, and ask her what they are? I don't think so."

Replacing the brush, she snapped the compact shut, setting it down on the dresser and looking back to the mirror to pull back her hair. As she did so, she glanced to the young man in the reflection.

He was grinning.

Her eyes narrowing, Queen Elsa spun around, looking to the jail cell with her best rendition of the Royal Glare.

 _"_ _What?"_ she snarled.

The Spirit of Winter raised his eyebrows.

" _You_ think I'm handsome," he chuckled.

Elsa froze.

Her mouth falling open in shock, unable to will her vocal cords to function, she drew herself up. Just as she was about to speak, there was a knock.

She jolted, spinning around to the door. The knock came again.

 _"_ _Elsa?"_ Anna's voice called out through the wood, "Elsa, are you up? Can I come in?"

Elsa gasped, running over to the door. Ignoring the boy in the jail cell next to her, she set her feet, closing her eyes in concentration and holding out her arms.

 _Anna,_ she thought, slowly pulling in her breath. _I love Anna… come to me, sweet, beautiful snow… let me see Anna…_

" _WHOA!"_

Without opening her eyes, Elsa could hear the young man in the cell gasp in shock as the thick layers of ice and snow over the door began to lift away, disintegrating and swirling towards her in long, elegant spirals of frost. After a few moments, feeling the air around her dropping in temperature in the cloud of ice particles, Elsa slowly opened her eyes, looking up as she pulled her hands together.

After a brief pause, the frost compressing into a thin, delicate snowflake spinning across her ceiling, Elsa sighed, throwing her hands apart again and letting it melt into the air, disintegrating into a shimmering mist.

" _Sweet… MOTHER of…!"_ the young man in the cell breathed, staring with disbelief at the ceiling where she'd melted the snow. Without even pausing to look at him, Elsa ran forward to the door, throwing back the bolt and pulling it open.

 _"_ _Anna!"_ she exclaimed, leaping to catch her sister as she lurched forward, thrown off balance by her enormously pregnant stomach.

"Thank _goodness_ you're awake!" Anna sputtered, gasping for breath as she righted herself. "Your meeting starts in, what? Ten minutes? They said the door was frozen shut!"

"I know. And, it was," Elsa said quickly, "I was just about to—"

"—So I got you breakfast," Anna interrupted, shoving her a roll.

"Oh, my word. _Thank you!"_

Elsa took it, letting out her breath as she took a step back. Holding her stomach, Anna lurched forward another two steps into the room.

" _I'm_ just glad you're awake," she exclaimed, "I was beginning to get worried about you. When I didn't see you come to breakfast, and— _what. Is. THAT?"_

Her eyes widened, and Elsa looked up from the roll, finishing chewing a bite and swallowing it. Standing in front of the jail cell, Anna was staring straight through the icy bars, her jaw dropped in horror.

Elsa's face went pale.

"I—!" she squeaked, her voice shaking, "But—Anna, I—I can explain—!"

"—Wait," Jack asked, an excited little grin sweeping over his face, "Can—can she see me too?"

He jumped up, walking straight up to the gawking princess and coming to a stop right in front of her. "It's because you're sisters, right?" he asked eagerly, sticking his hand out through the bars, "Elsa told you about me, right? I…"

Anna, still staring into the jail cell in horror, didn't respond. Elsa watched as Jack Frost—his voice trailing off—slowly lowered his hand.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Didn't think so."

Elsa stared.

"Well. I guess you can relax, Snowflake," Jack sighed, turning away and walking towards the back of the cell as Elsa jumped. "You don't have to explain why there's a guy in your room."

Before she could respond, he bounced into the air. Whipping the shepherd's crook around his feet, Jack Frost suddenly swept a large snowbank into existence on the floor of the cell, and Anna gasped, spinning around to Elsa with bulging eyes.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

"I—did that," she stammered.

 _CRUNCH._

Jack Frost had flipped forward in the air, landing in the snowbank.

"And I did that, too," Elsa choked.

A look of horror at the sudden indentation swept over Anna's face. Turning to her sister, Elsa stepped in front of the bars, blocking the apparently-invisible young man from view.

"It's—an art project," Elsa improvised.

From behind the snowbank, there was a snort.

"It looks like…" Anna breathed, staring into Elsa's eyes, "A… _jail_ cell."

"THAT'S BECAUSE IT IS ONE," the snowbank yelled.

"I'm—experimenting," Elsa stammered, drawing herself up, "With—long distance—snowdrift formation, and—mental— _powers_ —stuff. As a scientific thing. I'm using the jail cell as part of the project to, uh, test my abilities to _think_ ice into existence, and, not around me, in enclosed spaces so that I can better understand the _and now it is snowing."_

 _BOOM._

There was a crash of thunder, and Elsa looked up in paralyzed horror as the stormclouds spilled out from the jail cell, rolling casually across the ceiling of her bedroom. Lounging back in the snowdrift and rolling the shepherd's crook on his toes as he held his feet in the air, Jack Frost shrugged.

"No, no. You can keep going," he chuckled. "Keep trying to come up with explanations of how you can take credit for this. It's entertaining."

Her fists clenched, Elsa stared at the floor, blood rushing to her face as Jack Frost's snow began to pile up around her.

 _"_ _I hate you,"_ she whispered.

"Wait, what?"

" _NO!_ Not you!" Elsa blurted, spinning back around to Anna, who was staring at her in hurt confusion, " _Him!_ I mean—um— _him—_ referring to—my subconscious. That I'm characterizing as male. Because—uh, because _reasons,_ and—!"

Anna was staring at her in confusion.

"I'm _really_ stressed out right now," Elsa squeaked.

"Oh. Right."

Anna smiled weakly, beginning to back away towards the door again. Elsa bit her lip, following.

"I'm sorry, Anna," she choked, "It's just—my brain—the meeting. Reform thing. I mean, it's really—"

"—It's okay," her sister giggled softly, stepping to the side as Elsa opened the door and let her pass through, "I understand. But you'll meet me after, right? And tell me how it goes?"

"Yes. Sure. Of course."

Elsa paused.

"Wait," she asked, "Um… meet you after what?"

"Your meeting?"

" _OH! Right!_ Right…"

Pausing in the doorway, Princess Anna turned around, putting her hand on Elsa's shoulder and looking into her eyes.

"Elsa," she whispered, "You're going to do _great._ I'm sure they'll love it."

Elsa nodded, biting her lip and drumming her fingers on the edge of the door. Anna smiled reassuringly, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"You can _do_ this," Anna tried again, letting go and backing into the hallway. "And I'll see you after. I love you!"

To this, Elsa smiled weakly, gratefully looking up into her sister's eyes. "Thanks, Anna," she whispered. "I love you, too."

 _Click._

She pushed the door closed. Leaning her forehead against the painted wood, Elsa let out her breath, running her fingers over the knob. Then, pulling herself up, she turned around to the icy jail cell again.

The white-haired young man lying in the snowdrift was watching her. As she turned around to face him, he smirked.

" _OoOOooOoooh_ ," Jack Frost warbled under his breath, "The _weather_ outside is friiiightful…"

"That was _not_ funny," Elsa choked.

The young man let out a sharp bark of laughter, craning his head back to look at her from the snowbank. "Really?" he chuckled, picking up the staff and effortlessly leaping onto his feet, "Because, _I_ thought it was hilarious."

Elsa blushed furiously. Scoffing and turning away from him, paced quickly across the room to her dresser, her long capelet billowing across the carpet behind her. Snatching up the file, she frantically pulled back its cover, her eyes falling onto the top paper.

 _ARENDELLE PEASANT HOUSING REFORM_

"You know what _you_ need?" the young man laughed, walking towards the front of the jail cell as Elsa anxiously flipped through the papers, " _You_ need to learn how to _relax."_

"I am relaxed."

 _Check, check, check, check,_ Elsa thought, glancing over the titles, _Benefits, timeline, projected cost sheet, building company comparison…_

He scoffed again. "Speaking as the professional fun-haver, here—"

"—With all due respect," Elsa snapped, walking towards the door with the file as she kept quickly sifting through the papers, "I still don't consider that _particular_ self-proclaimed credential of yours to be a credible one. Therefore, until such a time as you can _prove_ that you are who you say you are, I'm afraid that I will be continuing to call the shots on what is, and is not, _fun."_

She looked up from the file, raising her eyebrows. After a moment of staring at her in confusion, trying to process the statement, the young man jumped, his eyes bulging.

"YOU _STILL_ DON'T BELIEVE I'M JACK FROST?!" he sputtered.

"Until such a time as you can—"

"— _WHAT'S IT GONNA_ _ **TAKE,**_ _PRINCESS?!"_

"My being awake, _and_ not distracted," she said matter-of-factly. "This meeting shouldn't last for more than a couple of hours. You can continue to convince me then. And I'm a queen, for the record."

"I just _made it snow!"_ he protested. " _In. Your ROOM!"_

"I could have done it by accident. Subconsciously."

"How about the flying?"

"Could be a trick."

"And the wind?"

"A window could have opened without my knowledge."

"My shirt has ice on it."

"I could have done that, too."

" _WHY—"_

"— _Because_ ," Elsa said forcefully, "Given the currently distracted state of my brain, it is still _completely_ possible that you are, indeed, a product of my _lack of sleep and overactive imagination!"_

She nodded determinately, setting her jaw and snapping the file shut. The young man glared.

" _Or_ … I'm Jack Frost," he said slowly. "Why are you so set on the _subconscious_ thing?"

Elsa drew herself up. "Because there is a _perfectly_ logical explanation for all of this," she stammered angrily, "For—for you, and the snow, and the snow _storm,_ and this _all_ happening on the day of reform, that probably stems from my stressed-out, revolution-preoccupied BRAIN; a _logical_ reason for this all happening, that does _not_ involve having my adolescent _fictional character crush_ magically _SHOW UP_ in my _bedroom_ in the middle of the night to _make fun of me in front of my sister!"_

The young man in the cell raised his eyebrows.

"Uh…" he grinned, "Did you say, _crush?"_

"No."

Elsa bit down hard on her lip, whirling around and pacing across the room to her dresser, snatching up the file. She spun back to face him, hugging it to her chest.

"Now. If you'll _excuse_ me," Elsa said coldly, " _I_ have a reform to run."

She turned away, sweeping across the room, clutching the file as her long, sparkling capelet billowed across the carpet behind her. Leaping over the snowbank, the young man ran to the front of the cage, grabbing the bars.

"And if I _was_ Jack Frost," he sputtered, "Would you still be keeping me here?"

Elsa paused.

Slowly turning back to face him, she looked into his intelligent, piercingly blue eyes for a long moment, the white-haired young man staring at her through the bars of the icy jail cell.

A hint of a smirk tugging at the edge of her mouth, Elsa dropped her voice to a whisper.

"If you _were_ Jack Frost…" she laughed softly, "I don't think I'd _ever_ release you."

His mouth fell open. Before he could protest, however, the Snow Queen was throwing open her door, stepping out into the hallway and whisking her capelet through after her.


	8. The Council

**8: THE COUNCIL**

At the end of the day, Queen Elsa still had the last word, and would lead her kingdom as she saw fit. However, to do so without the approval of The Council was to guarantee that some random aspect of her life would suddenly, and inexplicably, become impossible to manage. Whether they did it by working to sabotage her agendas in congress or by using the threat of political offense to pressure her into uncomfortable state dinners and unnecessary foreign debates to take her away from her sister, when the beautiful young queen " _misbehaved_ ," in the eyes of The Council, they would always find a way to punish her.

It wasn't that she didn't know what they were doing, because she did—the men on The Council made sure of _that_ , despite the subtle, sneaky, and above all impossible-to-prove tactics they used to try and control her. For Elsa, every new reform and attempt to improve the kingdom was a personal sacrifice. But that didn't stop her from doing what she believed was right.

In the young queen's eyes, sacrifice was simply a part of the job.

Gripping the file to her chest as she stood outside the conference room, she closed her eyes, shakily pulling in her breath. Forget the young man in her sleeping quarters, for now. She had to focus. She had been preparing for this moment for _three months_.

Which somehow made everything even scarier.

 _You can do this,_ Elsa thought desperately, pressing her lips together. _The peasantry needs this. You've spent the last three months setting this up under the table. Just stay calm. Calm, cool, confident. Be. The Snow Queen…_

Slowly opening her eyes, she saw the heavy doors before her being pulled open by the guards, the long, dull creaking of the hinges familiar and terrifying all at the same time.

 _"QUEEN ELSA, OF ARENDELLE,"_ the spokesman announced.

With the sudden bustle of pushing back chairs and grunts and groans, the dozen or so men seated around the long table all dutifully stood up, turning around and staring at the young woman in the doorway.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

 _Queen Face!_

Fighting against a sudden wave of panic, Elsa frantically forced a smile, drawing herself up as she gripped the file to her chest. The men around the table smiled back threateningly, and she stiffened, struggling to keep her breathing even as she started the long, sweeping walk past all the members of the Royal Council to the end of the table at the opposite side of the room.

 _They've got nothing on you,_ she thought desperately. _You've got everything figured out. The funding, the construction time, the economic benefits. All in this folder. Just stay calm…_

It wasn't like she didn't _know_ these men. Most of them were personal friends of her father's, members of the nobility that had watched Elsa grow up, taking over the affairs of the kingdom during the three-year gap between the King's passing and Elsa's coronation.

Despite the overwhelming success of Elsa's previous reforms, the unspoken rule in the Council was that anything new, original, or different was unacceptable. After all, to a group of people that profited off of tradition, there was nothing in the world that was more offensive than a new idea. Especially in the case of something so dramatic, like this. The housing reform was Elsa's most recent secret project, the numbers and estimates and plans that she gripped with white knuckles, desperately trying to prepare herself for this moment.

Because _today_ , Elsa told herself, she was _going to do it_. Despite the personal risk and sacrifice, the Snow Queen was going to _push this reform through_.

And they were _not_ going to like it.

Finally reaching the end of the table, Elsa stood up as straight as she could against the knot in her stomach, silently begging the air around her to _not_ become spontaneously populated with snowflakes.

She set down the file.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Elsa heard herself say. "You may be seated."

They did so, and Elsa gracefully sat down herself, the head butler gently pushing in her chair. She thanked him, and turned to face the long table again, her heart pounding as the creaking of chairs and adjusting of suitjackets died down.

 _You've got this._

Drawing herself up in the chair, Elsa forced a calm, regal smile.

"Before we begin," she announced, "I would like to take a moment to thank Rolf for calling this meeting into session. While I have not been directly informed of what the main focus of this council is, I am fairly certain that I know what it's about, and have prepared accordingly."

She gracefully raised her hands to the side, clapping politely and turning to him. The Council, following the cue, did so as well, smiling approvingly and nodding as the man in the seat next to Elsa acknowledged them.

When the applause died down, they all looked back to the young queen.

 _And now, for the big one,_ Elsa thought, beginning to pull back the cover of the file. Her heart pounding, she paused, her eyes falling onto the title of the announcement.

 _ARENDELLE HOUSING REFORM_

She closed her eyes.

"I have been doing some independent research," Elsa announced, struggling to keep her breathing even as she shakily began to pull out the paper, "Over the course of the last few months, and have spoken with some of you privately. To address what I believe to be the most pressing need for the people, I have devised a—"

"— _Ahem."_

Elsa froze.

Looking up from the file, her heart pounding, she realized that the men seated around the table were shifting uncomfortably in their chairs, glancing worriedly at each other and avoiding her gaze. Sitting beside her at the head council seat, Rolf cleared his throat once again.

She looked to him.

"Queen Elsa…" he said quietly, "If I may…?"

A look of confusion swept over her face, and Elsa put down the piece of paper. "Is—is there something you'd like to say, Rolf?" she quavered.

There was a long moment of silence.

Gathering his words, Elsa watched as the head Councilman drew himself up, interlacing his fingers and looking to her sternly.

"Queen Elsa," he enunciated. "This meeting has been called into session because the Council feels that you should be spending less of your time worrying yourself about the affairs of the kingdom, and more of your time focusing on producing an heir."

Elsa could practically feel her heart stop beating.

Her throat tightening with shock, she looked down, gripping the paper so hard her hand started shaking. Her lip trembling, she gasped for a shallow breath of air as blood rushed to her face.

"I— _!_ " Elsa choked. "You—an _heir?"_

He nodded solemnly.

Frantically looking around the table, Elsa's eyes darted from the face of one councilman to the next. Now that the words had been said, they were all drawing themselves up, muttering terse agreements under their breaths and clearing their throats.

"Your _lack of interest_ in forming alliances," Rolf was suddenly saying again, "Has been a topic causing great concern amongst the nobility."

" _Alliances?"_

"Your majesty," another councilman started, making her spin around again, "As your Royal Council, we feel inclined to remind you that your responsibilities to Arendelle _include_ the formation of alliances."

"But—b-but _Arendelle has entered into SIX new alliances,_ since my coronation!" Elsa exclaimed. "And I—and, there's _another_ one in the works as we speak! International trade has _increased_ by over three hundred percent during my rule, _I will remind you_ , and—"

"But Queen El—"

"And—and _besides,_ " she said forcefully, the words tumbling out of her mouth faster and faster as she spoke, "Given that we are currently at _peace,_ with my treaty with the Southern Isles, and given the results of the latest census, the very _idea_ that international matters, rather than domestic ones, would be my primary concern is—it's _preposterous!"_

Rolf drew himself up. "But the Nobility—"

"—The _Nobility,"_ Elsa snapped, whipping back around to face Rolf again, "Already has enough food and water and shelter to _not be my concern!_ The people—"

"—The _people_ have a _right to a KING!"_ he yelled, slamming his fist onto the table.

Elsa's breath caught.

Rolf shifted uncomfortably in his seat, breaking eye contact and looking down, trying to gather his thoughts. Elsa stared at him in shock, the word reverberating through her mind as it seemed to ring continuously, silently, through the frozen quiet of the room.

 _King._

"I— _Queen Elsa,"_ he started again softly, shaking his head and looking to her again with condescending concern, "It is just—well, the _people._ We know it's been a rocky transition since your father's death, with your—coronation—and we feel that a _king_ might be able to—well, ease the people's minds. If you were at least _attempting_ to find a suitable man, and…"

Elsa was no longer listening.

The _people?_

But—b-but the people—they _loved_ her. The reforms. The changes. They'd _worked_. And her approval ratings—they highest among the peasantry, of any ruler of Arendelle, for the previous 140 _years_. The people _adored_ her. The _people_ didn't have any problems with a Virgin Queen.

Did they?

Elsa's mind raced, images of the statistics, the news articles, and the polls all spinning and melting into a blur in front of her eyes as she looked around the table with disbelief. It—it wasn't true.

It _wasn't true._

Her mind was numb. Elsa opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She couldn't will her vocal cords to function.

From all around her, the other men at the table were beginning to speak, their voices fading into static in her ears.

"If you truly wanted to help Arendelle—"

"The stability of the kingdom—"

"Now that you're in control of your _condition_ , you could focus more on—"

"Perhaps you can find a man who could look past it, and—"

"Just _leverage_ your beauty and femininity, and you could _surely_ make a respectable alliance for—"

"You're certainly _young_ enough—"

"—And beautiful enough!"

"Oh, yes! _Very_ beautiful!"

" _Extremely_ attractive—"

"—And young!"

"Although, if you perhaps wore more— _traditional_ clothing—"

"For the people, knowing that there's a strong, capable _man_ holding the scepter—"

"And, we can keep running the more boring affairs of the kingdom, while we—"

 ** _"—ENOUGH!"_** Elsa shrieked.

Everyone froze. Now on her feet, the young queen carefully reached forward, gingerly placing her hands in front of her on the table.

"That. Is. _Enough,"_ she choked.

Pressing her lips together, Elsa's entire body started trembling as she stared down at the table, struggling to keep her breathing even.

"Queen Elsa… we _know_ that it must be very hard for you to understand," Rolf whispered carefully. "You—well, being so _young_ , and—"

"—I understand perfectly."

She snapped her head up, glaring at him through the few flurries of snow that were beginning to materialize out of the air around her.

"You want a king," Elsa said.

The room was silent.

She looked back down to the table, struggling to regain control as the snowflakes continued to float onto the smooth wood in front of her, melting as soon as they hit. Pulling in a deep breath, Elsa drew herself up.

"To be _completely_ honest," she gritted, "I was under the impression that I was ruling this kingdom _perfectly_ well, on. My. _Own_."

The men said nothing.

After a few more moments of silence, the last stray flurries of snow falling softly onto the conference table in front of her, Queen Elsa shakily lowered herself into her seat.

"Thank you for your— _concern—_ gentlemen," she enunciated carefully, looking around the table at each of them in turn, "But I believe that this discussion is over. And, if I ever _do_ decide to entertain the idea of seeing suitors, you will be the _first_ to know. _Now,"_ she started again coldly, her hand shaking as she began to reach for the folder, "If we can get back to a— _relevant—_ topic of discussion, it would be deeply appreciated. Unless there is anything else that I desperately need to be told, _I_ would like to move on."

As she started to pull out the piece of paper, Rolf cleared his throat.

"The suitors have already been invited, Queen Elsa."

She froze.

Looking up from the file, her eyes wide, Elsa felt her mouth fall open in shock.

"I— _what?"_ she gasped.

The Councilmen were nodding, their faces grave.

"The suitors are on their way as we speak. The first audience is scheduled for tomorrow."

Elsa sat back in her chair, a wave of nausea sweeping through her body, her mind freezing into the blank haze of shock.

Tomorrow.

They had already invited them. And the first would be here. _Tomorrow._

"Queen Elsa," one of the men said softly, "You must at _least_ agree to _consider_ them."

Consider them.

Of course she would. Now that they'd been invited, already on their way, to _not_ give the suitors audience would be a scandal. Political suicide, at best. The Council had known she would never agree, so they had already invited the suitors. _Now,_ the young queen couldn't back out.

They knew it. Elsa knew it. But, worst of all, they _knew_ that Elsa knew it.

There was no escape.

"We _know_ this is hard," Rolf whispered. "But _please_. Think of Arendelle."

Her head swimming as the terror rushed through her again, Elsa could practically feel the men's cold, expectant stares upon her as she sat in stunned silence at the end of the table.

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Elsa looked down to the paper on the table in front of her, still sitting in the open file. For the hundredth time in that week, her gaze fell onto the bold, brave title written in her finest script across the top.

 _ARENDELLE PEASANT HOUSING REFORM_

Her eyes started stinging.

Shakily pulling in her breath, Queen Elsa drew herself up. Reaching across and picking up the cover of the file, she carefully shifted her fingers underneath its edge, trembling as she slowly closed the foil-edged parchment over the reform that she had been working for three months to prepare.

"I will consider them," Elsa heard herself say.

.

.

.

Lying on his back in the snowdrift, Jack Frost brushed his fingertips over the edge of the icy rose, another delicate, crystalline petal materializing on the bloom as he held it up over his face in the air.

Staring at the flower and eying his work, he sighed, stretching his legs out over his head and then letting his heels drop forward onto the ground with a _thump._ After three hundred years of watching people, he'd sort of figured that he'd know more about girls by this point. And: _nope_. Nada. No ideas.

Okay. There was the _flowers_ thing. But how many of those could he make? Ice sculptures were cute, and everything, but they weren't exactly _blizzards._ Blizzards were fun.

During the night, deciding what to say when Elsa woke up, he'd had about six hours to decide on a pick-up line. And now, he had to think of something else. For when she got back from the meeting thingy, that was. And who knew how long _that_ would take… yeah, he'd probably be stuck in this cell for a while.

Jack bit his lip, stretching his legs over his head again and staring up at the ceiling through his toes.

 _Bored._

He sighed, blowing a clump of white hair out of his face.

 _Borrrrrrrred,_ Jack thought again miserably. _Bored, stored, gored, floored, mored… is mored a word? Afford… shored… all aboard…_

This was the _worst_ kind of boredom. It wasn't that there weren't things that he wanted to do _,_ because he _always_ had things he wanted to do, as much as it was that he was stuck, in one place, waiting for an unknown amount of time with something to worry about.

Craning his head back in the snowdrift, Jack looked to the bars of the cell. Now that he wasn't handcuffed to them, he could probably break out, but… well, holding cell or otherwise, Elsa had made it. And breaking something she'd made probably wasn't going to help him any in overcoming the first impression as The Guy That Broke Into Her Room. He wasn't exactly in _love_ with her, or anything, because—well, _hi, nice to meet you_ , but Jack had long-since decided that the Snow Queen was someone worth trying to impress, even though impressing people wasn't particularly high on his list of concerns. Usually, Jack was the type to just throw himself out there, and if some boring old stick-in-the-mud didn't like it (for instance, a boring old stick-in-the-mud with boomerangs, big ears, and no sense of humor), who _cared?_ There was _way_ too much fun to be had in this world, for Jack Frost to worry about what other people thought of him.

So, why was he so worried now?

Jack groaned, sitting up in the snowdrift. He already felt such a weird— _connection—_ with her. With this _Elsa_ person. From what he could see, Elsa was smart, and passionate, and—when she _wasn't_ scared out of her wits—she actually seemed to be a really sweet girl. Maybe even someone he could be friends with. Her eyes had this _depth_ to them, an empathy, like this young queen was living with the emotional battle scars of someone who had already fought against a lifetime's worth of darkness, and had won. Like she was someone who might—understand _._

And the fact that she was a _female_ with _ice powers_ didn't exactly hurt, either.

Suddenly remembering it again, now sitting cross-legged on the floor of the cell, Jack reached forward, grabbing his cuff. Gingerly pulling up his sleeve and being careful not to disturb it, Jack's eyes once again fell onto the crimson mark smeared across his forearm.

It was real.

Jack's heart skipped a beat, and he grinned, raising his eyebrows and twisting his arm to watch the lipstick mark shimmer in the morning sunlight. It was starting to fade a bit from rubbing against the wool, for the thirty-eight times that he'd already pulled the sleeve up to check if it was really still there, but it _was_ still there, still real, still sparkly, and still. Very. Much. _Hers_. Three hundred years of absolutely _NOTHING_ ; no touching, no talking, no flirting, and then _bam._ THAT. And the physical evidence that it had _happened,_ too. He'd never really _gotten_ the appeal of lipstick before, but now that _Elsa's_ was on his skin…

Okay.

That was actually sort of hot.

Jack Frost smiled, carefully pulling his sleeve back down. Yeah. Let's be friends, Snowflake.

 ** _BANG!_**

Jack startled, whipping his head around. The door had crashed open as Queen Elsa burst into the room, whirling back and violently slamming it shut behind her.

His eyes widening, Jack scrambled onto his feet, running up to the bars as she leaned against the door and threw the bolt into place. She spun away from him, pacing across the room and slapping the file onto her dresser, the long capelet billowing behind her as she visibly struggled not to cry.

"What _happened?_ Why are you back so soon?" he blurted, "I—you were barely gone for ten _minutes!"_

She ignored him, stepping back from the dresser and turning around. Slowly pulling in her breath, the young queen bent down to the ground, carefully swirling her arms through the air and pulling them upwards. The life-size statue of a human materializing out of the carpet in front of her, Jack watched in shock as Elsa flicked her fingers over the ice, the frost crystals settling intricately into the features of a well-dressed, snooty-looking, middle-aged man.

 _What the—?_ He thought.

Finishing the likeness, Elsa inspected the statue, taking a step back and pressing her lips together. Closing her eyes, she then pulled in a long breath, regally clasping her hands together in front of her skirt. Her face serene, Jack watched in wonder as Elsa slowly turned away from it and began to walk across the room, measuring her steps in a perfectly-controlled, regal calm as she neared the jail cell, almost as if she herself was a cool, smooth statue of crystalline—

 **"G _AAAAAAAAAAAAAURGH!"_**

Jack startled as Elsa suddenly whipped around and screamed, sparkling ice ripping out of her arms and blasting into the statue. Flying through the air and crashing into the man's face, the statue's features were instantly covered as the ice particles stuck, the young woman holding her ground with her arms out in front of her until the statue of the man was a solid glacier, sliding to a stop across the carpet.

The last of the scream draining from her lungs, Elsa dropped her hands to her sides, stumbling back a step and gasping for breath. Her cheeks flushed, Jack watched in horror as the young queen messily rubbed her arm across her nose, tears welling up in her eyes.

"An _heir,"_ she sobbed angrily, "I'll _give 'em_ their _STUPID_ heir… _!"_

"What happened?"

"Oh, like I'm telling _you!"_

"What. _Happened."_

Raising his eyebrows, Jack waited at the front of the cell, gripping the bars and staring into the young queen's face. After a few moments of hesitation, she drew herself up, turning around and glaring into his eyes.

"They want a king," she choked.

A look of confusion swept over his face. She turned away, pacing quickly towards the dresser.

"Wait," Jack asked, "They want— _what?"_

 _"A KING! Okay?"_

Elsa snatched up the file, whirling around to face him.

" _Basically,"_ she stammered, gesturing with the file, "They don't— _want—_ me! Never _mind_ the approval ratings, or the reforms, or _anything else;_ they want me to find a frumpy old _MAN_ to marry, so that I can be out of the way, so that he can join their stupid _BOYS'_ club, and _replace me!"_

She spun around, angrily slapping the file onto the dresser again as Jack looked to his feet in confusion. Scoffing, he looked back up through the bars.

"But that's… stupid," he said.

"THEN YOU TELL THEM THAT."

"Well, maybe I will," Jack snapped, setting his jaw.

"Oh! _Right!_ That'll be just _wonderful!"_ she gasped, blinking frantically as she swept her hand to the side, " _Hi, everyone!_ Just in case you weren't questioning my ability to rule _while being female_ already, I brought an invisible myth-man, that apparently only _I_ can see, to tell you what a great queen I am! Perfect! Just—just _p-perfect!"_

Stumbling over to the nearest chair, the young queen collapsed into it, her back shaking violently as she buried her face in her hands and burst uncontrollably into tears.

Jack was dumbfounded.

His heart pounding, the Youngest Guardian looked down at his feet, feeling the icy bars in front of him with his hands, his mind racing as he tried to decide what to do. The Ice Powers Girl was—in _hysterics._ This wasn't a matter of being a little stressed out, or needing to forget her worries for a few seconds. A simple snowflake wouldn't do enough, for this. He wanted to help, to do something, _anything,_ to try and calm her down, this girl that clearly hadn't gotten to have fun in _years,_ but for as long as he was stuck in this _stupid_ cell—!

Jack stopped.

Hearing her desperate, poorly-muffled sobbing from the other side of the room, he carefully let go of the bars, walking backwards to the other side of the cell as he studied them. The bars—he knew the structure of ice. These had way too much light in them, so, the density—these weren't made for a solid structure. They were more _show_ than—well, now that he wasn't handcuffed to them—a running start, maybe?

Jack bit his lip, looking down to his feet again and shifting his fingers on the staff as he slowly turned to face the back wall of the jail cell. Last chance to change his mind. Last chance to stay out of the situation, with this young queen's political agendas and fun-less personal life. There was no going back, from a move like this.

Jack Frost swallowed hard, looking to the girl across the room.

This was going to hurt.

Holding his breath, he leapt up into the air, kicking the wall and launching himself forward.

 _CRASH!_

Elsa gasped, jumping and spinning around in shock as Jack's body came pummeling through the bars of the jail cell, shards of ice shattering around him as he slammed into the ground, rolling forward across the carpet. Before she could say anything, he was leaping into the air and swooping across the room, grasping her hand in his own and yanking her onto her feet.

 _"What are you doing?"_ she gasped, "What—what's going—"

"—I'm getting you out of here," Jack snapped, pulling her after him as he determinately stomped into the art gallery.

Stumbling over the edge of her dress, Elsa ran forward a step, trying to match his pace. "B-but where are we going?"

Coming to the balcony, Jack reached forward, grasping the handle of one of the tall, glass doors and flinging it open. Picking up his staff again, he calmly pulled her closest wrist over his head and around his neck, then bending down and slamming his opposite arm into the backs of her knees.

Elsa squeaked in shock as he scooped her up, and Jack gently readjusted his grip on the staff, carrying her out through the doors.

"I said, _where are we going?"_ she cried, " _Where are you taking me?"_

Gripping her tighter, Jack Frost looked down, staring intensely into Elsa's eyes.

"Someplace fun," he whispered.

And he leapt from the balcony.


	9. Someplace Fun

**9: SOMEPLACE FUN**

She didn't ever actually feel him touch down on the ground.

The flight was short, high, cold, and completely terrifying in a distinctly nauseating sort of way. Having left her stomach back somewhere on the balcony, from the moment he'd leapt into the air, Elsa had buried her head in his chest, clutching onto the ice-covered fabric of the young man's shirt with terror. Usually, she would have protested, done _something_ to protect herself as she'd been helplessly scooped up into his wiry arms, but she was still in far too much shock to think straight.

 _How_ could the Council invite suitors without her approval? Did they find out about the reform? If so, _how?_ She worked _so_ hard to make sure that it was a secret… Her mind raced, heart pounding as her eyes went dry, the tears slowing to a stop as she struggled to analyze the situation. Were signatures forged? Or was this some trick of theirs? They always had another trick… it was _unreal. That's_ what it was. Simply put, it didn't. Make. _Sense._ By comparison, the fact that a strange young man claiming to be her childhood hero had just kidnapped her from her own sleeping quarters and was now _flying_ her hundreds of feet over Arendelle seemed positively normal.

Not that she was going to open her eyes.

Elsa waited until he gently set her down in the snow to let go of the young man's shirt, shakily releasing the fabric and pulling in her breath. Hesitantly looking up, she found herself sitting on the bank of a small lake, covered over with ice, in the middle of a clearing of trees.

She had never been to this place before…

The young man cleared his throat. She sucked in her breath, snapping her head up.

"And _now_ ," he started softly, "That we're away from all of that—at least you should believe me now about my identity. Right?"

His voice trailed off, and he raised his eyebrows, leaning into the staff.

Elsa broke eye contact. After a few moments of silence—

" _YOU'RE STILL NOT CONVINCED?!"_

"I'm s-sorry," Elsa choked, "It's just that I—"

"—I just _PICKED YOU UP,_ and **_FLEW YOU_** _OVER YOUR KINGDOM!"_ he sputtered, "Are you in _denial?!_ I mean, am I _missing_ something? Do you not WANT me to be Jack Frost, or—"

"— _IWantYouToBeJackFrost!_ " Elsa blurted.

The words had tumbled out before she could stop them, and Elsa snapped her mouth shut, sucking in her breath. Staring even more determinately into her lap, she hugged her knees to her chest, feeling blood rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment.

The young man walked towards her, crouching down in front of her in the snow.

"Hey."

Elsa didn't respond, biting her lip. He scooted an inch closer, trying again.

"Ma'am, will you please look at me?"

She swallowed hard, hesitantly looking up, but not quite meeting his eyes. The boy sighed, shaking his head.

"Okay," he started carefully, "You—um—you said you researched Jack Frost. Right?"

She closed her eyes. After a few moments, Elsa nodded.

"I did," she admitted. "Right."

"So, why don't you tell me everything you _do_ know about m—uh, him?"

Elsa let out her breath, scoffing softly and looking up. The white-haired young man was staring at her, raising his eyebrows.

She sighed in defeat.

"Okay," Elsa choked, blushing in embarrassment, "Um… ice powers."

He nodded. "Check."

"White hair."

"Check again."

"Blue eyes."

"Yep."

"Carries a stick?"

"It's a _staff."_

"Likes kids."

"You're gonna have to trust me on that one, but yes."

"Can fly."

"I think we've got that covered."

"Fun."

Elsa's eyes widened at the sudden realization, and she suddenly pulled in her breath. Looking up again, she realized that the white-haired young man crouching in front of her was frozen, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock.

"Uh…" he breathed, "What… did you say?"

" _Fun,"_ Elsa repeated, sitting up. "Jack Frost is _fun._ I mean, in all the accounts, and stories, and— _!_ How can you _possibly_ be Jack Frost, if you aren't _fun?"_

He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. He then closed it again, looking into her face with disbelief.

 _"_ How—H-How did you—?"

His voice trailed off. Hiding it, he then let out a nervous bark of laughter, and shook his head vigorously. Pushing himself up, he took a few steps back from her in the snow.

"Well—never mind how you knew tha—yeah, never mind," he laughed breathlessly, "THAT part's easy. The fun, I mean. That's what I brought you here for, anyway." He crouched down next to her in the snow, gazing up through his eyelashes. "And _you_ , ma'am, are in more desperate need of fun than anyone I've ever seen."

"B-But I already _told_ you," Elsa quavered, "I don't _like_ having fun. I mean—I _can't._ I'm the Queen. I don't have time for—"

"—BALONEY."

She stopped, looking up at him in shock. The young man's expression was suddenly grave, his previously flirtatious gaze now hardened into a glare.

"I—"

"—Okay, change of plans. _Now_ we're here because I'm going to prove you wrong," he interrupted, putting his hand on his thigh and pushing himself up, "Speaking as the professional fun-haver here, you _ARE_ going to have some fun in your life, and you _ARE_ going to enjoy it, whether you like it or not."

"I've told you, I can't!"

"Yeah, you can."

"But I—"

"—Will you _please_ just believe in yourself?"

He offered her his hand.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat, and she quickly looked down, breaking eye contact. Anxiously fidgeting with her fingers, she bit her lip, still seeing his outstretched hand in her peripheral vision.

She determinately stared into her lap, frozen as the young man took a step towards her.

"Elsa, will you _please_ just give yourself a chance?" he asked softly. "I know you've got it in you. I can see it in your eyes."

"I—!" Elsa stammered. She shifted uncomfortably in the snowbank, sucking in her breath. "I just don't know if I should. I mean, I probably shouldn't even be here."

A pause.

"Why not?" he sighed. "Do you need me to take you back home?"

"No, it's—well, I _want_ to be here, but—but I— _!_ " She gulped, rocking back in the snow and squeezing her eyes shut. "There's work to do. _Lots_ of work. I shouldn't be here. I need to get back to work; I should be workin—"

 _Ting!_

Elsa jolted as the enormous snowflake suddenly landed on the tip of her nose, busting apart in front of her eyes. As a sparkling blue mist twinkled in her vision, disintegrating into the air just as quickly as it had materialized, she froze, feeling a strange, inexplicable rush of joy sweep through her body.

Elsa blinked, quaveringly letting out her breath as her muscles relaxed. Giving her head a little shake, she looked up, only to realize that the young man was crouching down in front of her in the snow again, gazing intently into her eyes.

He raised his eyebrows.

"That's more like it," he whispered. "You've been working yourself to death. And a certain somebody _told_ me once—as _I_ recall—that they've got a _'personal responsibility to Arendelle, that involves a great deal of not dying?"_ "

Elsa felt blood rushing to her cheeks.

"I—I suppose you're right," she breathed. "And the meeting was really short, so I should have a little time. Right?"

He stood back up, offering his hand again. "Uh-huh."

"And—and my councilors," Elsa stammered, taking it, "It'll work out."

"Absolutely," the young man replied, pulling her up onto her feet. "And, don't worry about it for now. We'll sort them out when we get back."

She nodded gratefully, straightening her skirt and taking a step forward. Looking around, Elsa realized that they were standing in a tiny clearing in the forest, tall, thick trees surrounding a little pond. She could tell from the drop in temperature that they were in the mountains as well, the air slightly thinner, away from the villages and farmland below. This place, in fact, was closer to the altitude of the North Mountain than anything else, and was certainly higher and colder than most people—even ice-harvesters, like Kristoff—would dare venture, _especially_ in the middle of winter.

Staring at the ground, Elsa snuck a look in the young man's direction again, suddenly noticing that he had no shoes, comfortably standing barefoot in the ankle-deep snow.

 _Ninety-nine-and-a-half percent convinced._

Her heart pounding, she straightened up, looking into his eyes.

"So…what were you wanting to do?"

He spun his staff on the ground, pondering this for a moment. Then, catching it, he stuck his other hand in his pocket, looking back to her and raising his eyebrows again.

"Actually," he said carefully, "I was sort of hoping you could— _show_ me what you can do."

Elsa froze.

Feeling his intense gaze on her face, Elsa looked down again, biting her lip. Anxiously fidgeting with her fingers, she let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head.

"I don't—I d-don't know if I—"

"—What's the matter _now?"_

"I guess I—um," she stammered, her heart leaping into her throat as he walked toward her again, "I've never really been asked to—um—demonstrate? Before?"

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. " _Look_ ," he reassured her, "You don't need to—like— _perform,_ or anything. I was just wanting to see some more of what you showed me last night."

"What do you mean?"

"Uh—ma'am?" Elsa watched in shock as he reached forward, picking up her hands in his own. "You. Have. _Ice Powers._ Okay? Just—let 'em go."

Elsa gazed down at her palms as he turned away, the staff falling back onto his shoulder.

"I promise it'll be _funnnn_ ," he called over his shoulder.

The midday sun was partially blocked by the thick clouds above them, but a few rogue streams of light made it through to the clearing, catching the sparkling web of ice crystals on his shirt as he moved.

Ice crystals…

"Look, do I need to _taunt_ it out of you?"

Elsa snapped back into focus. He had suddenly spun around to face her again, gazing into her eyes from across the little clearing.

" _Taunt_ it out of me?" she sputtered, "What do you mean?"

He sighed dramatically, a mischievous hint of a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth as he turned away from her again.

"Well… I'm starting to doubt if you've really got it in you. But, I shouldn't be surprised," the young man drawled, shrugging casually, "I mean, if it's really _true_ that ice is more of a _guy_ thing, and—"

 _FWOOM!_

Elsa jolted, her eyes bulging as she stared at her own outstretched arms, and the enormous snowdrift that suddenly had suddenly materialized where the young man had been standing. Seeing the pile of snow shifting, her breath caught as she heard a triumphant laugh ring through the clearing. All of a sudden, a blue-sleeved arm, holding a shepherd's crook, burst out of the snowdrift.

"I—I'm _so sorry!"_ Elsa gasped, running forward to him, "I just—I didn't mean— _!"_

"— _THAT'S_ more _LIKE_ it!"

A grin on his face, he punched his staff at the sky, and she gasped as a sparkling stream of ice particles shot up through the air into the center of the clearing, expanding into a sheet and bursting apart over the pond. As the glittering mist of snowflakes softly fell towards the dark surface of the partially-frozen water, her heart leapt, and she turned back to face him.

He gestured to her again.

Oh. Um…

Elsa swept her hands over her head, and a half-a-dozen snowflakes flew out of her arms, spiraling above them into the air and fading away in the light. She then sheepishly looked back to the whited-haired young man.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Seriously?"

 _EeeeeeeEEEEE POW!_

Elsa blushed, letting out a self-conscious giggle as her long spiral of snowflakes caught the sunlight, blasting apart into explosions of icy glitter.

He laughed in excitement, flipping backwards and flying across the clearing through the air, whipping his staff around his feet. Elsa gasped as a fierce, cold wind began to rush around her in the clearing, the snow picking up and swirling into the trees as the bottom of her skirt flapped wildly against her legs.

All of a sudden, the young man flipped forward, diving towards the pond and slamming the end of the shepherd's crook onto its surface.

 _BOOM!_

It froze over, hard, a large cloud of frost billowing into the trees like a wave of dust.

Elsa's heart leapt, and she shakily picked up the edge of her skirt, running out onto the ice to meet him as he straightened up. Planting her feet as he turned around to face her, her mind racing, she then closed her eyes in concentration, bending down.

Biting her lip, she pulled her arms into the air.

 _"_ _WHOA!"_

The young man jolted and leapt into the air as the frozen surface of the pond cracked away from its banks, rising into the trees, six gigantic pillars pushing it into the air with a long, dull thundering as Elsa pulled it out of the ground. Twenty feet up, she lowered her arms, turning back to him hopefully.

The young man raised his eyebrows, letting the shepherd's crook fall backwards onto his shoulder. He laughed, shaking his head and grinning.

"You _sure_ that you don't have time for fun, ma'am?" he chuckled.

She said nothing, but reached her right hand across her body, rubbing it on her opposite elbow and smiling up at him shyly.

"Your turn," Elsa whispered.

He nodded, still grinning, and walked calmly to the edge of the pond, flipping the staff forward. Tapping the surface of the ice, he then swung the end of the shepherd's crook into the air, a swirling spiral of frost shooting up out of the clearing.

And it stopped.

As the twisted pillar of frost hovered in its place, catching the sunlight as it slowly turned in the air, Elsa crept up to it in wonder. The young man calmly walked around the frozen floor, tapping his staff on the ice and sending more spirals of shimmering frost bursting up from the ice. As she stood, staring up at the delicate column of mist in awe, Elsa suddenly felt a frigid gust of wind rush past her, and she gasped, whirling around.

With a dull creaking, the twisted pillars of frost instantly hardened into solid ice as the wind rushed past them. Elsa's breath caught, and she ran back into the center of the floor as the white-haired young man flipped backwards into the air, throwing the end of his staff over the clearing with a triumphant laugh.

 _CRACK!_

The enormous snowflake shot up out of the clearing, exploding into millions of delicate snowflakes and falling all around them on the ice.

As she turned back, he was suddenly beside her again, lighting onto the ice with a grin on his face. He bowed dramatically, gesturing for her to make her next move.

A slight hop in her step as she rushed over to the side of the platform, standing between two of the beautiful, twisted columns, Elsa reached forward and swept her hand through the air. A flurry of snow shot through the space between the columns. She then moved her opposite hand in the other direction, and another flurry went spiraling out.

With the young man watching her in curiosity, Elsa took a step back, looking at the frosty _x_ webbed between the pillars. As he walked forward, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock, she swept her hands to the side.

 _FWOOM!_

" _MOTHER of—!"_

He stumbled backwards in amazement, staring up at the elegant, crystalline wall that had suddenly rolled across the x, delicate patterns spiked out all across its surface. Without even waiting for her next turn, Elsa gasped in delight, running across the ice, throwing her arms out in front of her and sending rocketing streamers of frost sailing over the ice, sticking onto the walls in elegant, spontaneous spirals as the young man laughed, shooting past her and whipping a whirlwind of snowflakes through the air. Creaking, popping, cracking blasts of ice and snow exploded through the structure; walls, arches, and a gigantic, sparkling dome of ice materializing out of the clearing in the blizzard around them.

Elsa could hardly see as the snow rushed around her on the ice, the wind tearing at her long capelet and whipping her skirt against her legs, but she didn't need to. She didn't care. All she needed was to _feel_ it, the rush of frigid air rushing through her braid, as she threw her hands in one way, and then the other, pillars and columns and beautiful crystalline walls erupting out of the floor with explosions of frost. It had been _months_ since she had felt this free. Free, and liberated, and light _,_ and—and—!

 _Fun._

She felt— _fun._

An unexplainable rush of joy swept through her, Elsa laughed, holding out her arms and spinning around and around on the ice, her heart racing as she felt the frost rushing about her legs. The snow, the cold, the glittering on the air; it was _amazing,_ without description, the wind in her ears as she spun, the blizzard swirling, growing stronger, twisting and dancing and whipping and—

" _EEP!"_

Her spike heel suddenly catching on her capelet, Elsa shrieked, plummeting towards the ground. Just before she hit, a wiry arm shot out of nowhere, and she felt a hard jerk back on her waist. Dangling above the icy floor as she gasped for breath, Elsa looked down to her stomach.

A navy blue sleeve.

"You okay, Snowflake?"

Feeling the heat of embarrassment rushing to her face, Elsa shakily let him pull her back onto her feet, struggling to regain her footing. Brushing off her dress and straightening up, she turned around to face him, sheepishly staring at the ground.

"I—I'm sorry," she choked, "I just—I got a little carried away."

"Do you need to sit down?"

"I—!"

Before he could respond, Elsa shakily nodded, lowering herself onto the ground and collapsing onto the icy floor. Catching a glimpse of his expression before quickly looking away, she saw that the young man was struggling not to laugh.

Her regal, elegant capelet thrown around her on the ice, Queen Elsa bit her lip, her heart pounding as she hugged her knees to her chest. The young man silently stepped forward, crouching down in front of her with his staff across his lap, gazing into her face in the silence.

Rocking back, and then forward again, Elsa pulled in a quick breath, hesitantly looking up into his eyes. She let out a nervous laugh, shifting on the ground.

"I just—I just don't think I've ever had so much— _fun,"_ Elsa breathed.

The young man raised his eyebrows.

After a few moments, he grinned, inching another little step towards her on his tip-toes.

"And _that—_ m'lady _,_ " he chuckled softly, reaching forward and flicking the end of Elsa's nose, "Is the most fantastic thing I've heard today."

Elsa smiled in spite of herself, continuing to hug her knees to her chest in the childlike position as he winked, placing his hand on his thigh and pushing himself up. Getting onto his feet, the young man laughed under his breath, offering his hand to help her up.

"Do you think you're alright now?" he asked, "Ready to keep building this—whatever we're making?"

Elsa gulped.

His feet stepped into her field of vision again. Elsa blushed, and sat up, fighting back the stinging in her eyes.

"It—it really _is_ you," she whimpered. "Isn't it?"

He said nothing, but smiled sheepishly, his piercing gaze locked into hers as she looked up. As she nervously stared into his boyish face, Elsa suddenly realized that his startlingly blue eyes had delicate, white-streaked patterns in them, like snowflakes.

 _Snowflakes._

A jolt of shock shot through her, the reality of it all hitting her at once. Her heart pounding, Elsa pulled in a ragged gasp, her vision blurring with tears.

"You really _are_ Jack Frost," Elsa sobbed.

Unable to fight it anymore, she cupped her hands over her eyes, shaking her head as more blood rushed to her face. It was too much. The snow, the cold, the whirlwind of emotions spinning through her mind; the _everything,_ her head reeling, mind racing to catch up as she frantically tried to flick away the tears beginning to roll down her cheeks _._ How could this—it—b-but it was— _!_

 _He_ was.

"I—I guess I am," he said softly.

"You're— _Jack. Frost,"_ Elsa stammered, looking up at him through her fingers, "I mean, I—I _studied_ you! You're _amazing,_ and smart, and fun, and wonderful, and you have ice powers, and—and y-you—I just—I—I c-can't believe that you're—we're _—!"_

She abruptly cut herself off and shook her head, burying her face in her hands again in embarrassment.

There was a long, silent pause.

Without looking up, Elsa could feel the young man crouch down again, carefully laying his staff down on the ground next to her. After another few moments, she could see his shadow on the ice, his arms reaching forward.

Elsa jolted as she felt his icy fingers curl around her wrists. Sucking in her breath, she froze as the Spirit of Winter gently pulled her hands away from her face, smiling sheepishly and staring into her eyes.

"Hi," Jack whispered.


	10. Mr Frost

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ah, wouldya look at that? It's MEEEEE, throwing historical accuracy to the wind! In multiple ways! Ha ha, aren't timelines FUN? (In my defense: Disney wasn't super concerned about historical accuracy, either, soooo… that means I'm good, right?)**

 **.**

 **10: MR. FROST**

Elsa and Jack stood together in a peaceful silence, leaning over the balcony of the ice palace they'd built and watching the afternoon sun in its slow descent behind the mountains. So far up north, in December, there were only a few hours of light in each day, so the sky was already beginning to get dark, filled with all the rich colors of the evening.

Gently tracing the crystalline edge of the balcony rail with her finger, Elsa looked to the side, sneaking another glance at him. For all those years of studying and theorizing—a complete secret, of course, _well_ hidden from her parents and tutors—she had formed a great number of ideas about what the Spirit of Winter might actually _be_ like, if she was ever to meet him. And now, here he was, standing next to her on the ice, every bit as fun and clever and wonderful as she'd ever hoped he would be.

"What are you thinking, Elsa?" he said suddenly.

She jumped. Feeling blood rushing to her face, Elsa let out a nervous laugh, suddenly realizing that Jack staring at her.

"I just—you're—um," she stammered, shrugging quickly and looking down again. _"You're Jack Frost."_

He laughed, shaking his head and leaning back onto the balcony rail. "Well, I'm glad to have _finally_ convinced you."

"It's still kind of a lot to take in."

"Yeah," Jack chuckled. "And you're not the only one getting your mind blown. If that makes you feel any better."

A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face. "Not the only one? What do you mean?" she laughed bitterly. "You're the _Spirit of Winter_."

"Yeah," he scoffed. "And _you're_ a female with ice powers."

"Wait, what?"

"I said, you're a person with ice powers."

"Oh."

Elsa looked back down to the railing, studying the lines and patterns of light catching in the ice. Letting out her breath, she sighed, her heart swelling as she ran her finger over the railing's smooth, comfortingly cold surface.

Ice could really be so beautiful…

" _There_ it is," he said softly.

She snapped back into focus, blushing and looking back into his eyes. Standing next to her, eyebrows raised, Jack Frost was grinning.

"There _what_ is?" Elsa quavered.

"That smile." He stood up, turning around and leaning back against the railing, looking to her flirtatiously. "You're _smiling_ , there, Snowflake. I see you."

She said nothing, but looked down to her hands on the railing and fidgeted with her fingers. After a few moments, she felt him lean over close next to her.

" _Which means I was riiiiiiiiiiiight,"_ Jack sang softly.

Elsa jumped, letting out another nervous laugh. "Right about what?"

He raised his eyebrows. Smirking, Jack Frost then playfully reached over and hovered his pointer finger next to her shoulder.

" _You. Like. Having. Fun,"_ he enunciated, poking her arm with each word.

Elsa scoffed, blushing and shrugging him off. "Just because I was smiling—"

"—You _bet_ you were—"

"—It doesn't _necessarily_ mean that I was thinking about having fun," she laughed breathily. "I—I could have been thinking about politics. Or the housing reform, for all you—"

"— _Politics!?"_

Elsa hesitantly looked back up, to realize that he was sticking out his lip, looking at her with puppy dog eyes. Shifting on her feet, she sighed, shaking her head.

"Okay, okay," Elsa mumbled, pretending not the notice the victorious little smile spreading across his face, "I—like having fun."

"What was that?" Jack teased, dramatically sweeping his hand up to his ear, "I—I didn't quite _hear_ you; could you please repea—"

 **"—** ** _I LIKE HAVING FUN!"_** she shrieked.

They both burst out laughing at her sudden outburst, and Elsa blushed, grinning in spite of herself.

" _There_ ," she giggled, "Are you _happy?"_

"Yeah." Jack smiled. "I am."

The peaceful quiet fell over them again.

Elsa felt a tiny, sheepish smile tugging at the edge of her mouth. Without looking up, she realized that Jack was scooting towards her again, leaning onto the balcony railing.

"And I am _eagerly_ awaiting your _humble_ apology," he prompted.

She bit her lip.

"Alright," Elsa admitted, shifting uncomfortably on her feet and avoiding his gaze, "I—I'm sorry that I said I didn't have time for fun. Because—well, because—"

He was leaning in very close to her, grinning mischievously, his piercing blue eyes practically sparkling as he expectantly gazed into her face.

Elsa shakily pulled in her breath.

 _"_ _Because you're Jack Frost,"_ she squeaked.

He chuckled good-naturedly, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows. "Daw, come on," he laughed softly, giving her another playful nudge. "I was kinda hoping you'd say you were sorry because you were _wrong._ "

"Well, I guess I—okay. I was," she sighed. "That—that was really rude. And I was wrong. I'm sorry I said that."

"And for the handcuffs?"

Elsa fidgeted with her fingers. "I suppose that the handcuffs were a little excessive—"

"—And for generally being an _insufferable snot."_

" _Insufferable—!"_

Her mouth falling open in shock, Elsa spun around and shoved him. Jack laughed, shrugging as she shook her head.

"How about _you?"_ she giggled bitterly, "You _broke into my room,_ you rogue! Where's _my_ apology?"

" _Rogue?!"_

She raised her eyebrows.

He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. After a few moments, he blushed, letting out a sheepish laugh and shaking his head in embarrassment.

"Okay. I admit it," Jack mumbled, "That—yeah, that was probably a little out of line."

A pause.

"Right. _Completely_ out of line," Jack corrected.

"And creepy."

"And _unspeakably_ creepy, and weird, and I totally deserved the handcuffs."

Elsa considered this.

"You left out the part about biting me," she prompted.

" _It was a NIP!"_

They both laughed again, and Elsa reached up and pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. Smoothing it back, and then pulling her braid forward over her shoulder, she gave a little shrug.

"I'm sorry for being a snot," she said softly.

"I'm sorry for being a complete and total stalker."

Jack Frost looked back down, flicking his fingers against the railing. He pulled in a deep breath.

"That _was_ really pretty creepy," he muttered. "Wasn't it?"

"What—waking up to find a strange man _standing by my bed while I slept?"_ Elsa scoffed, "My, why would that be at _all_ concerning? You think _that_ wasn't a nightmare come true?"

He bit his lip.

"You really shouldn't joke about nightmares," Jack said softly. "Nightmares are downright scary."

"Well—of course! If you aren't afraid of something, it isn't scary, so a nightmare you aren't scared of is just a dream." She shrugged. "Isn't that what makes it a nightmare in the first place?"

"What do you mean?"

"Fear."

His eyebrows lifted slightly at the statement, and he stared at her for a long moment in shock. Shifting on his feet, Jack Frost gulped, running his thumb along the edge of his pocket.

"Um…" he started, "Elsa… You said you—as a kid—you researched me. Right?"

She felt blood rushing to her face. Shrugging nervously, she gave him a quick nod.

"Yes. I mean, right. I did," she admitted.

He looked to his feet, absent-mindedly sliding his big toe across the ice. Elsa watched as he then hesitantly looked back up into her eyes.

"You didn't—you didn't by chance—research anyone— _else,"_ he said carefully. "Did you?"

Her heart leapt into her throat. Feeling herself blushing harder, Elsa let out a nervous laugh, looking away. "Not really," she admitted. "I mean—not like a _hobby,_ or—not like you. No."

He closed his eyes, visibly heaving a sigh of relief and leaning back against the railing. Elsa laughed breathily, tucking a hair behind her ear.

"Look, I _know_ it's strange—"

"—It's not strange at all, Snowflake," he retorted, snapping back into focus. "I just wish I'd known about you."

"Me too."

"Did you ever look for me?"

She shook her head. "Not recently. I figured I was too old," she sighed. "You know, because you were always with children, and—"

"—You are _not_ too old," Jack interjected forcefully. "If I'd had any clue you'd existed, I _promise_ you, I would have showed up before last night."

She nodded weakly.

The wave of calm washed over her again, and she closed her eyes, feeling the nervousness melting away.

"Mr. Frost…"

" _Mr. Frost?!"_ he sputtered, jolting and whipping around to face her, "Are you serious?"

"Well—that's your name. Isn't it?"

"Wrong. Okay, well, _technically_ right," he chuckled, crinkling his nose, "But— _blech_. A bit _snooty,_ don't you think?"

A sudden wave of panic swept over her, and Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

"Then I—um," she squeaked, "Is there something else you'd rather have me call—"

"—Jack is fine."

He was grinning at her again, leaning over the railing with his shoulder right up against hers, teasingly waiting for her response.

She pulled in her breath.

"Jack."

His eyes softened. Elsa paused, carefully considering her question.

"If you didn't— _know_ —that I existed—I mean, before last night," she corrected, "How—I mean, if it's okay if I ask—"

He raised his eyebrows.

"How did you end up here in the _first_ place?" Elsa breathed.

"Oh," he sighed. "I… um… "

He bit his lip. After a few moments, he pulled in his breath, trying again.

"Well—okay," he explained, "I became a Guardian at the end of last March. Then, a couple nights ago, I get this summons from North, and—"

"—Whoa. Wait. Slow down," Elsa interrupted, "I still don't really understand what a Guardian is."

"Right. Well, there's—alright, there's a lot of darkness in the world," he said quietly. "And, the Man in the Moon doesn't think that kids should really have to— _deal_ with it—until they've grown up. So, he's chosen a few of us to guard various—parts—of childhood."

"And you guard fun, right?"

He jolted, slamming his hand down onto the rail and spinning around to her. _"HOW_ did you catch onto that so quickly?!"

Elsa laughed. "Research," she admitted.

Jack Frost scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned back over the railing and scooted an inch closer to her. "You—and your— _research—!"_

He gave her another playful nudge, and she blushed, biting her lip self-consciously.

"So," Elsa tried again, "You're a Guardian of Children— _literally_. Like, being a Guardian means that you _guard_ children's right to have fun."

Jack grinned. "Pretty much."

"I suppose that makes sense. So, what's North?"

"It's a direction, m'lady."

There was a long, awkward pause.

 _"_ _Okay,_ okay," Jack laughed, leaning the staff up against the icy railing, "I'll talk. North is what we call Santa Claus."

" _Santa Claus_ is real?"

His eyes widened. " _Wow,"_ he exclaimed, "You believed in _me_ , but _not_ in North. I'm pretty sure that's never happened before. I'm flattered."

"Why not just call him _Santa?"_

" _Santa?_ Like, _Saint?"_ Jack scoffed. "Um— _no._ And you can take it from _me,_ Snowflake," he added, raising an eyebrow and leaning close in to her face, "He is _not_ a saint."

She giggled in spite of herself, and he grinned, shifting slightly back on the rail. After a few moments, Elsa shook her head.

"But that—that still doesn't answer my original question," she admitted. "How'd you end up in Arendelle?"

"Oh. Right." Jack Frost pulled in his breath again. "So, I'm a Guardian now. And apparently, doing the Guardian— _thing—_ for eight and a half months was enough to make the Nice List."

"Nice List?"

He raised his eyebrows. After a few moments—putting two and two together—Elsa gasped.

"Santa Claus, again?"

"Correct."

He grinned, looking down to the crystalline railing.

"So—uh—Nice List," he started again. "Apparently, I was on it, so North—Santa Claus, I guess—he wanted to give me a Christmas present."

"And?"

Jack Frost opened his mouth to say something. After a few moments, he closed it again, letting out a breathy laugh.

"And—um," he admitted sheepishly, "So—well, here I am."

"Santa Claus' _Christmas present_ to you was _sending you to Arendelle?"_ Elsa exclaimed. "But that—wait, really?"

He shrugged, his cheeks flushing. "Yeah. Really."

A rush of excitement swept through her body.

" _Wow_ ," Elsa quavered excitedly, "I—that's _amazing!_ I didn't think we were that much of a tourist destination! Arendelle's on the map, again?"

"Uh—"

"—I mean, except for the ice skating," she bubbled. "Rebuilding the outer infrastructure must have _really_ helped! It was really hard to secure the funding and everything, but I suppose it—"

Her voice trailed off, and Elsa felt a wave of self-consciousness grasp her as she slowly looked back to the beautiful, white-haired young man standing next to her by the balcony rail. He was laughing softly under his breath, staring into her face with an expression of amused disbelief.

"Elsa…"

He shook his head. Elsa blushed, looking down and biting her lip. After a few moments of visible hesitation, the Spirit of Winter then quietly reached over on the railing, and she jumped, looking up in shock.

"North didn't me here to see Arendelle," Jack admitted softly. "He sent me here to meet you _."_

He placed his hand on top of hers.

Elsa froze, staring at it in shock. Feeling his gaze on her face in the silence, his ice-cold hand still on top of hers on the railing, she shifted on her feet. Staring into the sunset again, she then pulled in a long, shaky breath.

" _Soooo_ …" Elsa laughed nervously, "This… this is what friendship is like."

He stiffened.

"Um… yeah," Jack agreed. "Friendship."

And the silence fell again.

All of a sudden, Elsa realized that there was a distinct, swelling sound ringing in her ears, with a smooth _beat,_ like…

Like music _._

Elsa and Jack both abruptly stood up, looking behind them. The sound was definitely coming from inside the doors.

"Am I the only one hearing this?" Jack asked.

"No, I'm hearing it too."

He snatched up the staff and leapt into the air, banging the doors open and darting inside to locate the source of the sound. Elsa, confused, followed quickly after him. As she stepped in from the icy balcony, the music grew louder, and she realized why.

Across the room, standing out as distinctly solid and dark against the ice, she saw that Jack was hovering over a small wooden table with a phonograph sitting on the top, a large brass horn attached to its side. Walking forward to in wonder, Elsa realized that there were two mugs of a steaming something sitting beside it, along with a tray of colorful cookies.

Christmas cookies.

"What's going on?" Elsa laughed nervously, "How—wh-where on _earth_ did this all magically come from?"

"I think I've got a pretty good idea," Jack chuckled. He reached to the tray of cookies and picked up a candy cane, holding it up in the air. Elsa gasped.

"You mean that he's—?"

"Been here?" Jack laughed. "Yeah. He can do that."

" _What?_ How?"

"Remember that _magic portal_ thing?"

She raised her eyebrows. Looking to the tray of cookies again, Elsa's eyes fell onto the gleaming corner of a foil-edged, crimson card.

But Jack had seen it, too. Before she could pick it up, he lunged forward, snatching up the card and ripping the foil open with his teeth, anxiously flipping it open.

As his eyes fell onto the writing inside, the Spirit of Winter's pale cheeks flushed bright red.

Slowly letting out his breath, Jack Frost shook his head, closing the card and starting to stick it into his pocket. Before he could do so, Elsa suddenly leapt forward.

"Mr. Frost—"

"—Yeah. It's from North," he said quickly. "Don't worry about it."

"But you don't look—happy. You were _happy_ , a minute ago," she pressed, "If—if you need to be somewhere, or—"

"—Oh, no. It's nothing like that. It's just—I— _!"_

Blushing again, Jack Frost sighed. Sticking his hand into his pocket, he sheepishly pulled out the card, handing it to Elsa in defeat.

She took it, pulling back the crimson ribbon. Removing a tiny piece of gold foil, her eyes fell onto a single verse of cursive scrawl:

.

 _I see you when you're sleeping_

 _I know when you're awake_

 _I know if you've been bad or good,_

 _So if I get any more reports of you breaking into women's bedrooms in the middle of the night I am sending a yeti to fetch you back to see me in my office immediately and you will most certainly NOT be on the Nice List anymore, young man_

 _For goodness sake_

 _~N_

.

Elsa looked up.

"Santa Claus—can _do_ that?" she asked, "The whole _see you when you're sleeping_ thing?"

"Yeah," he sighed, kneading his eyebrows. "I try not to linger on it. It's _more_ than slightly creepy."

He shook his head, reaching out for the card. Elsa handed it to him, and he gave it another glance, scoffing and turning away.

"And he _really_ needs to stop calling me _young man,"_ Jack grumbled, tossing it onto the table. "Because I'm _not."_

"Actually," she admitted, "I've always wondered how ol—"

"—SO, AH HA HA," Jack suddenly jolted, spinning around to the phonograph, "I WONDER how this thing _WORKS!"_

Elsa abruptly snapped her mouth shut, catching the end of the question just before it fell off the tip of her tongue. Biting her lip, she looked down, fidgeting with her fingers. That wasn't a proper thing to ask…

She squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. _STUPID girl!_ Elsa thought miserably, _Just—just because you researched him for all those years, it doesn't mean you get to be—rude. And that was rude. He's a gentleman, after all, and one doesn't just ASK about—oh, STUPID girl! He's probably offended now. Or angry. When you open your eyes, he'll be gone. You've messed everything up again, because of your stupid, STUPID—_

 _"_ —Want to dance?"

"EEP!"

Elsa startled, leaping backwards in shock. Now suddenly standing directly in front of her, Jack Frost offered his hand.

"I—um," he tried again, "Do you—would you like to dance?"

Her mouth falling open in disbelief, Elsa stared at his hand.

After a few moments, she snapped back into focus, letting out a nervous laugh. "I— _thank_ you," she stammered, "But I—I don't dance."

" _What?"_ he exclaimed, "Who doesn't _dance?"_

 _"_ I don't."

"Oh, come on," he laughed, taking a step towards her and holding out his hand again, "It'll be fun."

Elsa bit her lip, pulling her hands into her stomach and hunching over slightly. As blood rushed to her face, she heard his voice trail off, silence falling over them on the ice.

"Wait a minute," he realized quietly, "You… you don't know _how?"_

She didn't respond.

"That's okay," he tried again. "I know how. I can teach you."

"But you're Jack Frost."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah?" he chuckled, "And you're the Snow Queen. Or—so I hear."

"No, no, no, that's not what I—I mean, I _am,_ but—!"

He was grinning slyly again, visibly restraining from laughter. " _What?"_ Jack teased. "Scared I'm going to nip your nose, again?"

" _No!"_

She looked to his hand.

"I—okay," Elsa squeaked. "A _little._ And since when does the _Spirit of Winter_ dance?"

"Well—not since before I fell through the—I mean, I _did,_ back when— _!"_

He bit his lip, looking down in embarrassment as his cheeks turned pink. Then, awkwardly kicking at the ice, Jack Frost looked back up into Elsa's eyes, smiling sheepishly.

"Okay," he admitted. "It's been a while."

He smiled hopefully, holding out his hand again.

Looking to it, Elsa felt her heart leap into her throat, her eyes lingering for a moment on the ice particles frosted over the navy fabric of his sleeves.

She reached forward, shakily placing her hand on his.

Smiling sheepishly, he curled his cold fingers around hers, looking up into her eyes through his hair. Her heart pounding, Elsa pulled in her breath as she let Jack Frost lead her out into the middle of the gleaming, crystalline floor.

"I've been watching people do this for ages," he laughed softly. "Dancing isn't hard. It's like ice. It looks complicated and fluid, but it's really just the same basic structure, over and over again."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, it's—it's like—okay," he said, backing away from her and looking to the floor, "A—snowflake. Yeah! A _snowflake_."

Elsa looked at him in puzzlement.

"Like—a _snowflake?_ " she repeated.

"Well, like—you know. The steps," Jack stammered, letting out a nervous laugh as he gripped her hands a little harder. "This kind. It's groups of three, like stepping on the points of a turning snowflake. See?"

Elsa looked down to her feet as he pulled her hands forward, pulling her slowly after him on the ice.

" _One_ , two, three, _four,_ five, six," Jack counted. "Snowflake. See it?"

He smiled hopefully, looking up into her eyes.

Elsa stared.

"You know—like, it's _following_ you," he tried again, blushing slightly, "Like—it's a big, slowly turning snowflake that's—okay. _Here_."

Jack dropped her hands, turning away and starting to run across the ice for his staff, which was still leaned up against the table. Reaching for it, he—

"—I can see it," Elsa blurted.

Jack paused.

Without picking up the staff, the Spirit of Winter slowly turned back to face her.

"Uh… you can?" he asked quietly.

"Well—yes," she realized, staring intently at the ground, "But it's—it's not a _turning_ snowflake, at all. It's just tilted. See?"

He raised his eyebrows as he walked towards her again, and Elsa demonstrated, picking up the edge of her skirt as she moved across the ice, stepping onto the points of the invisible, shifting hexagon.

"Tilted?" he asked.

"It's a bit more complicated than the diagram most people use. I mean, if you're talking about a waltz," Elsa admitted, continuing to stare at the floor as she swept past him, "You know—a shifting hexagon, rather than fixed boxes. I like your explanation better, but I don't think it's rotating. The snowflake, I mean. See, all of the movement, if we're assuming it's a hexagon, is _transverse_ as you— _!"_

Elsa squeaked, jumping as she bumped into him on the ice, and Jack laughed, grabbing her hand as she started to slip. Swallowing hard, Elsa blushed, biting the edge of her lip with embarrassment. He laughed, smiling good-naturedly.

"Wow," Jack said softly. "I thought you said you _didn't_ know how to dance."

"I don't know _much_."

"How much _do_ you know, then?"

"Well—I know that this is a waltz," Elsa admitted. "Three-four time."

"Yeeeeeup." Jack stepped up to her, scooping her arm up onto his as he reached around, putting his hand on her shoulderblade. "And the _best_ dance for pranking people."

" _Pranking_ people!?"

"Waltz is supposed to be romantic," he chuckled. "Right? So—uh—ruining the moment is sort of hilarious."

"How on earth do you _prank_ someone in a dance?"

He readjusted his grip, taking her other hand and subtlety sneaking his foot onto the hem of her dress.

"Oh," he shrugged, "Like this."

 _STOMP._

 _"_ _EEP!"_

The fabric suddenly yanked down to the side, Elsa shrieked as she slipped, her body being spun around on the ice and caught just as she plummeted towards the ground.

Hesitantly opening her eyes, her heart pounding, Elsa looked up to realize that she had instinctively thrown her arms around his neck, hanging on for dear life as she stared up into the Spirit of Winter's piercing, snowflake-marked eyes.

In a perfect dip.

He nodded.

"Okay," Jack breathed. "That worked a little better than I thought it would."

She said nothing, staring up at him in shock. He pulled in his breath.

"For the record, that's not how they're usually done," Jack added.

"Good," Elsa squeaked, shakily getting onto her feet as he pulled her back up.

"So… um," he asked, "I—should we try it out, or—?"

"—Sure."

Dropping her hands, he stepped back, turning and nearly running across the ice to the phonograph. Dropping the needle onto the record, Elsa watched as he awkwardly stuck his hands into his front pocket, walking back towards her across the ice.

As the piece of music on the record started, Jack stepped up to her again, scooping her arm up onto his and placing his hand on her shoulderblade. After tossing her long capelet over his arm, the fabric sparkling in the soft blue light of the icy ballroom, Jack then reached over and picked up her other hand.

And he paused.

A strange, dreamy expression sweeping over his features, the Spirit of Winter took a long moment to gently adjust his hand on her back, his fingers shifting over her icy dress. As she stood in front of him, waiting for him to take a step, Elsa felt him give her hand a tiny squeeze, running his other fingers over the edge of her shoulderblade again, almost as if he wasn't as much _adjusting_ his grip on her skin as he was—well. _Feeling_ it.

Savoring it.

Jack's face flushed, and he closed his eyes, smiling sheepishly as he held her hand, standing in his place as the music swelled. Shifting on her feet, Elsa bit her lip.

"Um—Mr. Frost?" she asked quietly, "Are you alright? Is everything—"

"—Yeah."

He startled slightly, jolting back into focus with a nervous laugh and shaking his head. Then—feeling him give her hand another squeeze as he blushed—Elsa watched as Jack Frost hesitantly looked up into her eyes.

" _Not_ —invisible," he breathed.

An look of confusion swept across her features.

After a few moments, Elsa opened her mouth to say something, but before she could do so, he let out a sharp bark of laughter, scoffing and leaning in close to her face.

"Oh—and, _seriously_ ," he chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "It's _Jack_."

Her arm on his, Elsa felt him give her a gentle push, leading her into the first step with the downbeat. Following, she moved back, and the young queen was suddenly sweeping across the ice, dancing with the Spirit of Winter as the swelling music reverberated through the dome.


	11. Alone and Free

**11: ALONE AND FREE**

The record came to an end much too soon, the last ringing, soaring notes of the waltz resounding through the dome as the music fizzled out. Realizing it, the Snow Queen and the Spirit of Winter simultaneously looked down, staring at the crystalline floor of the private ballroom as they suddenly remembered where they were.

And who they were with.

Elsa felt him slowly move his hand off of her back, her long capelet sliding off of his arm to float softly down to the ground.

"So—um," Jack laughed nervously, "Should—should we start it over, or—?"

"Oh! I—!" Elsa pushed a hair behind her ear, blushing slightly as he started to back up, pulling her towards the phonograph. "Th-that would be lovely."

He grinned, letting go of her hand and turning away, quickly pacing towards the phonograph. Elsa followed, the capelet flowing freely over the slick floor of the icy ballroom.

"Could I ask you a question?" she blurted.

The Spirit of Winter paused, holding the record and turning back to her. "Sure," he shrugged. "What is it?"

She pulled her hands into her stomach, taking another few steps towards him as he leaned back against the icy table. Pulling in a deep breath, she hesitantly looked up into his eyes.

"The jail cell," Elsa stammered. "You broke out. Like, I didn't make it strong enough. You _broke the bars."_

"Once I was out of the handcuffs, I could back up and get enough momentum to do it," he said casually. "Why?"

She bit her lip.

"So, you could have escaped at _any time,"_ Elsa choked.

He raised his eyebrows.

Letting out a breathy laugh, he shook his head, glancing down to the record and tossing it gently in his hands. Then, a flirtatious hint of a smile twitching out of the side of his mouth, Jack Frost looked back up to her, peering through his eyelashes.

"Escape from _you?"_ he chuckled, turning around. "Why on _earth_ would I have wanted to do _that?"_

She froze, her mouth falling open with shock as he flipped the record over, dropping it back onto the phonograph. Before she could will her vocal cords to function and respond—

"Are we still doing a one-for-one trade?" he asked suddenly, spinning back around. "Because if we are, you owe me the answer to another question, now."

Elsa shrugged. "Ask away."

"Why _didn't_ you know how to dance?"

The question caught her off-guard.

"Not everyone dances," she whispered.

"But you're _royalty."_

She looked down, nervously fidgeting with her fingers, her hands pulled into her stomach. After a few moments, Elsa sighed, sliding her right hand up onto her opposite elbow.

"Dancing like that requires— _touching_ people," she admitted sadly, "And certain— _turns—_ and things—basically, I couldn't wear gloves. I mean, _my_ gloves. Thick ones."

A look of concern swept over his face. "So… your powers?"

"Right." Elsa swallowed hard, looking back up into his eyes. "Anna had lessons, but for me—well, it never really came up. My parents didn't have to explain, because I knew why I was never invited to join in. I couldn't be trusted to hold a tutor's hands. I mean—with mine."

She stared at the ground again, rolling her foot on the ice as the memories came back into her mind. The sweeping feeling of isolation washing over her, she heard Jack pull in a long breath.

"Just—just so you know," he said softly, "I don't know if my opinion counts for much, but—I think your hands are fantastic."

Elsa hesitantly looked up. Meeting his gaze again, she felt herself relax slightly, staring into the Spirit of Winter's face. He was watching her intently as she anxiously ran her fingers over the icy sleeve of her dress, his expression absolutely sincere, like he truly _meant_ it, as the peaceful quiet fell over them again.

His eyes were so kind…

"Sooo," Jack blurted suddenly, making Elsa jump back into reality, "Um—if you've got another question for _me,_ then—"

 _"—_ _Yes!"_

He raised his eyebrows.

"I—yes. Actually," Elsa stammered, "I do."

Grinning, Jack stuck his hands into his front pocket, taking a step up to her. _"And?"_ he laughed softly.

Fighting the heat rushing to her face, Elsa drew herself up, putting aside her squealing inner fourteen-year-old's list of the few thousand _Jack-Frost-related_ questions that she desperately wanted to ask.

"My question—um," Elsa tried again, "I—okay, since _when_ does the _Spirit of Winter_ know how to dance?"

"Oh."

She watched as he scoffed, looking down and running his thumb over the edge of his pocket. A grin on the edge of his mouth, he then looked back up to her, choosing his words carefully.

"I haven't _just_ been pranking random guys for my whole existence, despite my—reputation," he said carefully, bringing a smile from Elsa, "I've been watching people. For—a while. I mean—so, it wasn't hard to see how dancing was _done._ And, I'm into pretty much any kind of fun, so, you know, why not?"

He shrugged, leaning back against the table.

"So, you've seen people dancing, and you wanted to try it out yourself?" Elsa asked.

He shrugged again, nodding. "It looked fun, sure."

"Why didn't you just join in?"

Jack Frost's mouth fell slightly open with shock.

After a few moments, he looked down.

"Uh…"

Letting out a nervous, breathy laugh, Jack shifted on his feet, turning around and picking up the record again. Shaking his head, he slid it back onto the phonograph, letting it _clunk_ into place and moving the needle to the side.

"Let's just say that there were some— _obstacles_ ," he said carefully, "That would make my dancing with anyone sort of difficult."

He turned back to face her.

"But—for the record," Jack added. "It _was_ fun."

He grinned again, pushing himself off from the table. Elsa smiled shyly, fidgeting with her fingers.

"I'm glad. I mean, I'm glad you thought so," she added quickly. "I thought it was fun, too."

"So," he ventured, "If it's my turn again—so, you couldn't dance, but you _do_ know music?"

"I _love_ music," Elsa laughed, snapping her head up again. "I mean, like—I can't play any instruments, I understand the basic structure and such, but I—well—um—"

Her voice trailed off, and she blushed, looking down. He took a tiny step towards her.

"You couldn't have a teacher for that, either?" he asked softly.

She shook her head. "I sort of—well, we _tried,_ but—"

Elsa bit her lip.

"Okay," Jack chuckled. "What happened?"

She looked down, fidgeting with her fingers.

"You have to promise not to laugh," she breathed.

He took another step towards her, gazing into her face with concern. After a few moments, she pulled in a deep breath.

"ISortOfFrozeThePiano," Elsa choked.

He jolted.

"I—I _d-didn't mean to!"_ she stammered as Jack clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes bulging as he visibly struggled not to burst out laughing, "I just—it was my first lesson, and—well, my teacher said I had to take off my gloves to play, and I did, and then I touched the keys, and it froze, and then my fingers got stuck, and—"

"—You _GOT STUCK_ to the _PIANO!?"_

"Well—more _in_ the piano," she blurted, blushing furiously as he turned around, his back shaking with suppressed snorts as he leaned onto the table, "In-between the keys—it was a C chord, and they had to get one of the royal artisans to chisel me out, and th-then my father had to bribe everyone, and—and—!"

Elsa abruptly stopped talking, cringing in embarrassment. After a few moments, Jack shook his head, slowly turning around to her again and pulling his hand away from his face, looking to her in horrified delight.

"I would have _paid_ to see that," he choked, smiling helplessly.

Elsa blushed harder.

Pulling in a deep breath, his face red from trying to suppress his laughter, Jack looked back to her.

" _Man_ ," he chuckled. "So, no more music lessons for the princess, huh?"

"No, I sing."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I—well, you can sing with gloves on, so it wasn't a big issue, and I—wait, why am I telling you this?" Elsa giggled breathlessly, "I'm probably boring you to death—it's not—I'm not interesting, and I'm sure that—"

"—Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on," he scoffed, "Uh—did you just say that you're _not interesting?"_

Elsa bit her lip.

"Well—not any more than anyone else," she admitted, "I mean—alright, I suppose that _everyone's_ interesting, if you get to know them, now that I think about it, b-but given your company, I really shouldn't be talking about myself, and—"

"—Ma'am?" he chuckled softly. "You can _see me."_

Elsa fell quiet. Then, looking down, she nodded.

" _And_ you have ice powers."

She nodded again.

" _And_ , you're a—you're—um _,"_ he said carefully, his voice trailing off.

Elsa watched as he slowly looked down, his gaze lingering for a moment on the sparkling fabric of her bodice. Squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed his hands together, touching the tips of his fingers to the bridge of his nose, Jack Frost then let out a breathy bark of laughter, looking back into her eyes.

"You're a— _girl,"_ he enunciated.

Silence.

Elsa stared at him in confusion as he suddenly shook his head, stepping up to her and grasping her shoulders.

"That is _very_ interesting to me," Jack breathed intensely.

Elsa stumbled back a step as he let go of her shoulders, a hint of a sheepish grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. Jack Frost then spun around, snatching one of the mugs of hot chocolate and holding it out to her.

"It occurs to me," he laughed nervously, "We should drink these. They're probably already cold."

"It's never particularly bothered me," she admitted, taking it. "But thank you."

"Want to sit down?"

A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face. "Sit down?" she asked quizzically, "Where? We didn't make any chairs."

Putting his mug back down onto the table and picking up the staff, not saying a word, Jack walked a few paces to the side, flipping it the shepherd's crook his wrist and letting the hook fall onto the ground. Sweeping out a large arc in the ice, he then scoffed, flinging his staff into the air.

 _Creeeeak!_

The icy platform shot upwards, stopping a few feet above the ground as Jack Frost walked around behind it, dragging the staff along its edge and pulling a long, gleaming backrest up out of the ice.

" _Didn't make any chairs,_ she says," he muttered dramatically, rolling his eyes and grinning up at her, " _Don't have anywhere to sit,_ she says…"

"But we _didn't_ have any place to sit, a _minute_ ago!"

"Oh, because that's a _problem."_ He swept the staff over the frame of the icy couch, a thick blanket of snow materializing out of the air behind it and settling onto the platform and backrest. "Picky, picky, picky…"

Elsa scoffed, her cheeks flushing as she readjusted her grip on the mug. "Not _all_ of us can have a seat by _floating in the air!"_

He said nothing, shaking his head with another grin. Jack then turned and leaned the staff back up against the table, picking up his mug of hot chocolate and gesturing for her to sit down. She walked over to the new ice couch and did so, turning around and sitting in the snow as politely as she could as he casually leapt back into the powder with a _crunch._

"Mr. Frost…"

" _Mr. Frost_ again?!" he laughed, " _Really?"_

"Oh—I'm sorry," Elsa stammered, "I just—I don't know you all that well, so—"

"—We can fix that."

Her heart skipped a beat as he crossed his ankle over his knee, glancing to the place on the couch next to him. Peering back up at her through his eyelashes, he shrugged, sitting back into the snow.

"I think that you still need to give me that color comparison sample," he said casually.

"Color comparison?"

Elsa watched as Jack raised his eyebrows, twisting around and setting the mug down on the end table. Then, looking to her flirtatiously, he grinned, pushing up his right sleeve and holding out his forearm. Elsa felt blood rushing to her face in embarrassment.

The lipstick smear.

"I—I didn't really mean to do that," she protested weakly. "I thought I was—"

"—Dreaming?"

"Um—yeah."

He raised his eyebrows again, grinning mischievously as he pulled down his sleeve. "Well," he chuckled, "If _that_ was you, thinking you were asleep… I would _love_ to see what it'd be like when you're completely awake."

Elsa blushed, staring at the floor as he picked up the mug again, handing it her. She shakily took it.

"I—um," she choked, "I'd—actually really appreciate it if you stopped bringing it up."

"It embarrasses you?"

"I just—it wasn't proper. At all," Elsa admitted.

"Snowflake, you were _loopy_."

"Believe me. I know." She bit her lip. "I'm really sorry. I mean, if I'd _realized_ tha—"

"—Hey, hey, hey. _No_ apology necessary," he laughed, taking a drink from his mug.

After a pause, Elsa watched as Jack Frost slowly looked back up, grinning mischievously as he peered at her through his eyelashes.

" _Ma'am,"_ he added slyly.

Elsa blushed harder.

She looked down to her mug, struggling to swallow the sharp sting of embarrassment in her throat. "I—um," she laughed nervously, "I guess I—I guess I had just always sort of supposed that I'd be completely— _awake._ For my first kiss."

"If it's any consolation," he shrugged, "Rest assured—if you hadn't actually _grabbed_ me, it wouldn't have happened."

She nodded. Pulling in her breath, Elsa opened her mouth to say something, and—

"Wait. I— _hold_ on," Jack jumped. His eyes wide, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "That—that was your first kiss?"

Elsa said nothing, but nodded. A strange expression swept over his features, and Jack's eyes softened.

"It was mine, too."

They stared at each other in silence.

A cold wave of self-consciousness hitting her, Elsa quickly broke eye contact, hunching her shoulders and staring down into the mug of hot chocolate. After a few moments, she heard the Spirit of Winter start breathily laughing in disbelief, and snapped her head up.

" _Wow,"_ he exhaled, running his finger along the edge of the mug. "First dance, first kiss, first person I've ever met besides me with ice powers— _!"_

Elsa felt herself blushing slightly. He shook his head, laughing again.

" _This_ ," Jack breathed, "Has been a _very_ big day."

"Starting in the middle of the night?"

" _Hey!"_

His mouth fell open, and Elsa giggled in spite of herself, shrugging and readjusting her grip on the mug. Jack shook his head, raising the mug.

"Well," he chuckled, " _Whatever_ this is—I feel like we need to make a toast, or something."

"What should we toast, then?" Elsa asked.

"No idea. What do you think?"

She looked down into her mug, drumming her fingers on its side. Giving a nervous little shrug, she pulled in a deep breath, holding it up.

"Nice to meet you?" Elsa squeaked.

He burst out laughing, and Elsa looked down into her mug, feeling herself blushing. Shaking his head, he scooted an inch closer to her in the snow.

"Here's to…" his voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes. After a long pause, he pulled in a deep breath, opening them and gazing into her face again.

"Here's to… _not_ being alone," he said softly.

He smiled hopefully, holding up his mug.

Staring at it—without raising her own—Elsa shifted uncomfortably again, glancing to the icy floor. "There's something to be _said_ for being alone, though," she admitted, looking back to her mug and running her finger down its side. "It's—it's _free_ , really. I mean, sometimes being alone and free is the best option you've got."

"Yeah. Well…"

He sighed, glancing downwards.

"That kind of freedom isn't necessarily all it's cracked up to be," Jack Frost said softly.

Looking slowly up through his hair, Elsa's breath caught as his piercingly blue gaze suddenly locked onto her own. As she stared into his face, incapable of pulling herself away from his eyes, Elsa suddenly realized that his usually playful expression had gone soft with sadness. Strangely familiar, his eyes were _pained_ , somehow, like there was a relatable agony behind them that the Snow Queen couldn't quite place, and yet… perfectly understood.

A loneliness.

Elsa nodded.

She clinked her mug against his, and Jack let out his breath, a bitter hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth as he sat back into the snow. After a moment of watching the light brown foam slowly turning on her cocoa's surface, Elsa raised the mug to her lips, hesitantly taking a drink.

She gasped.

"This—th-this is the best hot chocolate I've ever _tasted!"_ she exclaimed, looking up to him with shock, "How— _!_ "

His eyes suddenly lighting up again, Jack laughed, shrugging and wiping his arm across his mouth. "Oh, it's just the same old stuff," he chuckled, lifting his mug, "But, of course, it was made at the North Pole. Best hot cocoa in the _world."_

She nodded, raising the mug to take another drink. "Elves, right?"

"WRONG. _Oh_ , so wrong," he snorted, "The yetis. Best cookies, best cocoa, and by _far_ the best chocolate."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I think Arendelle could take you on in _that_ category."

"Oh, really?"

"Oh. _Really_ really," Elsa laughed. "In fact, there's this one specific type that I requested to be at my coronation... I thought they'd forgotten to bring it, but then I found out later that my sister Anna had—"

Elsa stopped abruptly, her eyes wide.

 **"** ** _ANNA!"_** she gasped, slamming her mug down onto the table and standing up.

Jack laughed. " _Man_ ," he chuckled, "What _happened?"_

"No, it's not th—I—oh, _no!"_ Elsa cried, stumbling backwards, " _Anna!_ My sister Anna! I was supposed to meet her right after the meeting! I _completely forgot!"_

Jack stood up, placing his own mug on the table and reaching for his staff. "Was it important?"

" _YES_ , it was important!" Elsa snapped, spinning around to face him, "It's my _SISTER!_ She'll be freaking out! She'll go into labor!"

"Alright," he sighed, "I can take you home. Come on."

Elsa's mind raced, words beginning to tumble out of her mouth before she could stop them as she followed him towards the balcony. "And if _Anna_ goes into labor, and the baby dies, and there's suddenly no heir, and—"

"—Wait. Hold on," Jack chuckled, bending down as she put her arm around his neck, "Are you telling me you'd need to have a child?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just thinking out loud," Elsa stammered, her heart leaping into her throat as he scooped her up, "I just—I suppose I _would,_ and then _that_ would be even HARDER, for—wait, what's so funny?"

He didn't respond immediately, grinning. "Just let me know if you ever need help with that, m'kay?"

"Wait, what?"

Pushing back the icy door and stepping out onto the balcony, Jack Frost shook his head.

"Aw, nothin'."

With a gasp, Elsa clutched him harder as the Spirit of Winter suddenly leapt off of the balcony back towards Arendelle.


	12. Sister, Sister

**12: SISTER, SISTER**

So, the Snow Queen was basically fantastic. And amazing. And brilliant.

And: _dang._

Lighting down onto Elsa's balcony, Jack felt the familiar pull of gravity reclaiming its grip on his body, the young queen's weight returning to his arms instead of being carried by the wind. Despite the sudden strain on his muscles, he hesitated as he held her, pausing for a long moment before reluctantly starting to set the young woman down onto her feet.

His breath catching, Jack's heart skipped a beat as the Snow Queen clutched him harder, her eyes squeezed shut as she gingerly felt the wooden planks with her foot. Reassuring herself that they were standing on solid ground, Elsa relaxed slightly, shakily standing up and taking a step back from him.

"I—um," she breathed, nervously pulling her hands down from his neck and looking up into his eyes, "Thank you. Jack."

He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Before he could try again, Elsa pulled in her breath, taking a quick step back from him and turning away.

The balcony door, still unlocked from when they'd left earlier that day, immediately swung open as she pushed it inwards, picking up the edge of her dress and running down the hallway. Silently following her into the art gallery, Jack pulled it shut behind him, already missing the feeling of Elsa's arms around him from the flight.

Reaching up and gingerly rubbing his neck, Jack slowly exhaled, his head still reeling. The _Snow Queen_ believed in him.

The SNOW QUEEN.

And she didn't just _believe_ in him, either—from what it sounded like, the Ice Powers Girl had been actively _looking_ for him her whole life. And the fact that she was completely gorgeous didn't help matters in the least _._ Despite the fact that he was mentally kicking himself for not checking out Arendelle sooner (like, a couple _decades_ sooner), Jack had to admit, the whole situation was pretty flattering. Somehow, it was even more flattering than the whole _Guardian_ thing, to find out how much this young woman believed in him. Believing in him meant that she could see him, seeing him meant that she could feel him, and feeling him meant that she could _touch_ him, which, by extension, meant that— _he_ could touch _her._

A _girl._

Oh, man.

Biting his lip at the thought, Jack pulled his hand down from his neck, turning it over and looking at it in wonder.

So _that's_ what dancing felt like.

Starting to walk down the hall in Elsa's art gallery—study— _closet_ —okay, the _whatever_ it was, Jack smiled sheepishly, practically feeling the Ice Powers Girl's cold hand on his arm again. And his hand on her shoulderblade. Just—just _holding_ her, after so many decades of not being able to hold _anyone_ , was just—

Wow.

Yeah. That was wow.

Not that Jack hadn't tried, before. In the previous March, he'd managed to convince the Tooth Fairy to try waltzing with him, and it had failed almost immediately. In an encounter that could only be described as cringingly awkward at best, dancing with Tooth had lasted for about five seconds, or rather, about four seconds _longer_ that their attempt at a relationship had.

Geez. _Speaking_ of bad ideas…

Jack bit his lip against the memory, sticking his free hand in his pocket and starting to walk down the hall towards the bedroom. After _that_ little experience, he had made a firm resolution that, when it came to stuff like dancing, he would stick to his same species. Or, at least, something close _to_ it, like a human. Like, a human with _ice powers._

Like an Elsa.

Jack smiled dumbly, his heart swelling as he ran his thumb over the edge of his pocket. What _insane luck,_ that North had left them a _phonograph._ With that ice-ballroom thingy they'd built, getting a phonograph was basically an extended, pre-packaged pickup line. It was almost like North _knew_ about the—

Wait.

Trying to dance with Tooth. North hadn't—he hadn't _seen—_ that. Had he? He—North didn't actually _know_ about—right?

Jack swallowed hard, feeling blood rushing to his cheeks.

Well.

 _That_ was embarrassing.

All of a sudden, kicking at the carpet, his toe hit up against something cold. His eyebrows lifting in surprise, he paused, looking down, and _what_ the _blizzards…?_

Jack Frost crouched down to the carpet, reaching forward and gingerly picking up the delicate, icy high heel. Yep—definitely ice. As he turned it over in his hands, his eyes widening, the moonlight from the window caught the crystalline edges of it, sparkling and gleaming. Throughout the ice, embedded into the sole and top of the shoe itself, the Spirit of Winter could see that there were dozens, if not hundreds, of tiny snow flurries, delicate swirls of frost spiraling throughout the entire piece.

Holy mother of snowflakes.

"Yes. I'll be in here," Elsa was saying in her bedroom, making him jump and look back up. "Yes, please find Princess Anna at _once!"_

Straightening up and still holding the shoe, Jack walked forward, passing the desk and finally pausing in front of the doorframe, looking into the next room. Having kicked off her other high heel, which was now lying on the carpet over by her bed, the Snow Queen was frantically running back and forth, throwing the bedroom back into its previous state. The shattered bars of the jail cell were gone, as well as the ice-blasted statue of the Councilman, as she sprinted for the chair that was pulled out into the middle of the room. Jack watched as she shoved the chair towards the wall, raising his eyebrows as he involuntarily glanced down to the sparkling, icy fabric shifting over Elsa's hips.

Yeeeeeup.

That was _definitely_ a girl.

Definitely, certainly, undoubtedly, and without _any_ question, a specimen of the female persuasio—

"—So, that's okay?"

 _GAUGH!_

The Ice Powers Girl was suddenly standing right in front of him, expectantly gazing into his face. Jack snapped back into focus.

"Um—sorry?" he blurted.

"I was asking if you wouldn't mind staying in here for a couple minutes," Elsa said quickly. "My sister will be here any moment, and she'll want to speak to m—"

Elsa's voice trailed off as she looked down, suddenly noticing the shoe in his hand.

His mouth falling slightly open, Jack looked to the high heel. Drawing himself up and clearing his throat, he then looked back into her eyes.

"I found your shoe," he informed her.

Elsa stared.

After a few moments, Jack shifted on his feet, gently tossing it to himself and then holding it out to her.

"I'm pretty sure it won't fit me," Jack added.

" _Oh!_ Um…"

Elsa blushed, snatching the heel out of his hand and backing up into her room again. She nervously looked back towards her bedroom door, and then to the shoe, awkwardly whapping its sole against her opposite palm a few times before meeting his eyes again.

"I—my sister—"

"—I can meet her, right?" Jack asked.

"Sure. But—"

There was a knock at the bedroom door. Elsa's eyes bulged, and she jolted, spinning around. The knock came again, and Jack watched as the Snow Queen stumbled back a step, shakily placing the crystalline high heel on her dresser.

" _She's here!_ " Elsa gasped, "I—I'm sorry, I have to—I have to go."

Jack raised his eyebrows, moving out of the way as Elsa lunged into the art gallery for the door. Missing the handle, and then catching it, she collapsed onto the brass knob, blushing and looking to him.

"I," she squeaked, "Um—would you please excuse me for a moment?"

She shot him a nervous smile, starting to pull the door shut as she backed into her bedroom. Jack leapt forward, catching it with the hook of his staff.

"But you said I could meet your sister," he protested.

"Yes, but—I mean—okay, can I explain later?" she choked, moving his staff to the side and starting to pull the door closed between them again.

"But Elsa, I—"

"Can we just—"

"Uh—"

"Maybe—"

"I—"

"—Please stay here."

"Wait, what?"

 _Click._

And Jack Frost suddenly found himself staring at the door between Elsa's bedroom and art gallery.

He blinked.

 _Right._

Crouching down in front of the door, Jack peered into the keyhole. A tiny grin twitching out of the side of his mouth, he shook his head, pulling in a deep breath.

 _You and these PITIFUL old-fashioned locks, Snowflake._

.

.

 _Creeeeeak!_

Light suddenly poured in from the hallway, and Elsa startled, spinning around and sucking her breath in through her teeth as she collapsed against the door handle.

" _AAAAAAAAAH-Nnaaaaaaa!"_ she squealed, the exclamation a near-frenzied shriek as her voice slid into a deafeningly high register, "AH HA HA, eh, _Hiiiii!_ I—"

" _—_ _Have been looking ALL OVER for you!"_

Feeling heat rushing to her face, Elsa let out a nervous laugh as she shakily pushed herself away from the brass knob, glancing back towards it. Princess Anna lurched forward into the room, and Elsa jumped, instinctively leaping forward.

" _Are you alright?"_ Elsa gasped.

Anna laughed good-naturedly, rocking back unsteadily onto her heels and patting her enormously pregnant stomach. "I'm fine. Now that you've _magically materialized_ back in the castle?"

"And I'm _so sorry_ about that," Elsa choked, "I—I completely forgot, and—"

"—Elsa, it's _okay,"_ Anna giggled. "I just want to know where you've _been,_ you stinker! _"_

Elsa's mouth fell slightly open, and she glanced back towards the art gallery.

Deciding against it, she quickly shook her head. "I just—uh," Elsa lied, staring at the floor, "I went for a walk."

Anna raised her eyebrows, and Elsa felt her heart leap into her throat. Fighting back the heat rushing to her face and trying to appear as casual as possible, Elsa gave her sister the best rendition of the Queen Face that she could muster.

"A… walk," Anna repeated glassily.

"Yes. A walk. Can I get you a chair?"

"You were gone for _seven hours!"_

Elsa bit her lip.

"It—was a long walk," she choked.

Elsa quickly turned away, struggling to keep her breathing even as she paced to the chair, reaching for it and starting to drag it back as if it hadn't been in the center of the room mere moments before. Stepping back from it, she forced a smile again as Anna's eyes narrowed, studying her face. After a few moments, realizing that she wasn't going to get any more information out of her sister, Anna sighed, smiling weakly as Elsa gestured to the seat.

As her sister stumbled over to the chair and sat down, Elsa let out her breath, turning and walking over to the dresser and picking up a small dish. "Chocolate?" she offered.

" _Oh,_ yes, please!"

Elsa's heart swelled, seeing her little sister's face light up as she snatched a truffle out of the dish, popping it into her mouth. Taking the dish back and replacing it on her dresser—Elsa mostly kept it there for Anna—she heard her sister clear her throat.

" _So,"_ Anna started happily, settling back into the chair as Elsa walked back over to her, swirling another chair into existence across from it, "How'd it go?"

"How'd what go?"

"Oh, come on. Your meeting?" Anna prodded, "You've only been telling me about it since forever! They all _loved_ the housing project, right?"

Elsa froze.

"Oh. Um…"

She shakily sat down in the icy chair, her capelet sweeping out around its base. Looking down and fidgeting with her fingers, she pulled in a deep breath.

"It—um," Elsa choked softly, "It—it wasn't about the housing project."

Anna's eyes widened. Quickly closing her own and fighting against the color rising to her face, Elsa bit down hard on her lip again as she felt the air around her suddenly getting colder.

 _Conceal!_

"What _happened?"_ Anna breathed.

"Anna, it's fine—"

"—No," she prodded, "You're _not_. Elsa, what's going on?"

"Nothing is!"

"Please don't shut me out."

Elsa abruptly sucked in her breath, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. Reluctantly opening her eyes, she looked up, realizing why Anna was staring at her with such intent concern.

It was snowing.

Elsa's heart sank, and she pressed her lips together, seeing the delicate flurries materializing out of the air around her. No point in trying to hide it now.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Elsa pulled in a long, deep breath.

 _"_ _TheCouncilWantsAKing,"_ she blurted.

A look of confusion swept over Anna's face. "Wait, what?"

"A king." Elsa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "The Council. They want me to get married. They want a king."

"A _king?"_ Anna repeated, "But they've got _you!_ What do they need a king for?"

"I—well, I mean they didn't actually _say_ it that way," Elsa stammered, blinking frantically as her eyes started stinging, "B-But they—they want to get rid of me. Basically. They said that I need to be seeing suitors, and s-something about p-producing an heir, and—"

"— _Producing an heir!?"_ Anna sputtered.

"Yeah."

Elsa nodded weakly, her face pale as she looked down, staring determinately into her lap. Anna's face fell.

"Oh, _Elsa_ …" she breathed. "I am _so_ sorry."

The flurries were slowing again, the pressure releasing as she confided in her sister. Letting out her breath, Elsa sighed.

"They've already invited the suitors," Elsa choked. "The first comes tomorrow, apparently."

Anna jolted, her eyes bulging in horror as Elsa miserably looked back down, beginning to fidget with her fingers again.

" _Already invited them?!"_ Anna gasped. " _Without your permission?"_

Elsa nodded.

" _Oh!"_

Shifting on the icy chair, Anna pressed her lips together in anger.

"Well, I just—I— _oh!"_ Anna gritted, "How—how _dare_ those—!"

"—Anna, don't stress yourself out," Elsa begged, "Think of the baby—"

"—The baby is fine. I just wanna go _punch_ whoever thought of _that_ one, that— _that—!"_

Anna paused, trying to decide on an insult.

"I _believe_ that the phrase that you're looking for," laughed a deep voice, "Is, _chauvinistic pig."_

Elsa jolted, snapping her head up and sharply sucking in her breath. Jack Frost was casually leaning against the back of Anna's chair, his staff resting on his shoulder.

"That— _jerk,"_ Anna said resolutely.

Jack shrugged. "I still like mine better," he chuckled, grinning up into Elsa's eyes. "So, this is your sister?"

Elsa was speechless, her mouth hanging open in shock.

Seeing her expression, Anna twisted around, looking blankly through the space behind her chair. " _What?_ What is it?" she asked, staring straight through where Jack was standing, "What are you staring at?"

Elsa jumped, jolting back into focus. " _Oh!_ I—it just—yes. _Jerk_ ," she said coldly, glaring directly into his eyes. "I completely agree with you. He is _definitely_ a _JERK."_

Jack grinned.

"Is it my hair?" Anna whimpered, anxiously reaching for her pigtails, "Kristoff says it looks exactly the same as it always has, but _I_ think it's getting frizzier, and—"

"—Your hair is beautiful," Elsa said quickly, "I— _!"_

"You _really_ need to update the locks around here, Snowflake," Jack chuckled. "I mean, at _least_ hire a yeti, or something. It's like you'll let about just any old riff-raff into this place."

"Anna, can you please excuse me for a minute?" Elsa choked, rising from the chair.

Before Anna could respond, Elsa was briskly pacing across the bedroom to her art gallery door. Jack followed, silently joining her as she pulled it shut behind them with a click, checking the brass knob to make sure it was in place.

Turning and pacing a few feet down into the hallway and away from the door, Elsa bit her lip. Passing the desk, with Jack Frost following closely behind, she pulled in her breath, and—

" _What_ —are you _doing!?"_ Elsa hissed, whirling around to face him, " _I told you to stay here!"_

"No, you _asked_ me to stay here. And I never said I would."

"But—"

"—You said I could meet your sister!" he protested.

" _Nooooo,_ I didn't mean _right now!"_ Elsa moaned. "Everybody thinks I'm going crazy already! Do you have any _idea_ how the nobility has treated me since the _last_ reform? Why are you so desperate to meet her, anyway?"

He let out a bitter laugh. "Isn't she your closest kin?"

"Well—yes!"

"And, I'm _interested_ in you?"

A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face.

Shifting his fingers on the staff and taking a step towards her, Jack scoffed softly, shaking his head. " _Look_ ," he admitted, "I know you've never really—done this—before. And neither have I, but I think I kind of need her permission before—"

"—Wait," Elsa interrupted, "You need my family's _permission_ before you can be friends with me?"

Jack's mouth fell open.

After a few moments, he closed it, clearing his throat and pulling in a deep breath.

"Um—right," he choked carefully. "I would like Anna's permission to pursue a— _friendship_ —with you."

"But— _!"_

Elsa crossed her arms over her chest, taking a step back. She hadn't really realized that friendship _required_ that, but—well—well, she'd never really _done_ the whole "friendship" thing, before, so—

"Okay. I'll introduce you," she sighed in defeat. "I just don't see why she even has to know you're here. Yet, at least."

" _What?"_

"Why can't this just be a secret?"

"Oh, I dunno," he snapped, "Maybe because I don't _like_ feeling like a total creeper?"

"How are you even so sure that she'll believe?"

"If you introduce me, she will."

"But—"

"—Because I can usually tell."

"You've known me _one day,_ Frost—"

 _"—_ _Elsa?"_ a voice quavered.

They spun around. Anna was standing in the doorway, staring.

"Um…" Anna's voice trailed off. "Who… are you talking to?"

Elsa's face went pale.

"Talking? T-Talking to?" she blurted nervously, letting out a frenzied giggle, "AH, ha ha ha, just—myself! Just—talking to myself! Yep!"

"On second thought," Jack drawled, " _Don't_ introduce me. You'll sound crazy. Because this definitely does _not_ sound— _OW!"_

Recoiling from Elsa's sharp kick, the Spirit of Winter jumped onto his left foot, clutching his ankle in his hands. Although he was still apparently invisible, Elsa strategically stepped in front of him, fighting the blood rushing to her cheeks as Anna slowly started to walk towards her into the gallery.

" _Elsa_ ," Anna said quietly, "I _know_ you're hiding something from me."

"Yep, and he's standing RIGHT here— _!_ " Jack leapt out of the way as Elsa swung out her foot to kick him again.

"Hiding? Wha-What would I be hiding?" Elsa stammered.

"Your art project from earlier today is gone," Anna tried again, creeping cautiously towards her sister, "And then you disappeared for seven hours. And now, you're acting…" she stopped, wincing. "Um… not… like you?"

Biting her lip again, Elsa drew herself up.

"Anna. I'm _fine,"_ Elsa choked, struggling to control her voice. "I'm just a little stressed, that's all. I'm stressed about the Council, but I can _assure_ you, apart from that, everything is perfectly norma ** _AAAAUGH!_** "

Something hard suddenly slammed into the back of her knees, and Elsa shrieked as she reeled backwards, being caught just before she hit and shooting upwards towards the vaulted ceiling. Realizing that she was suddenly hovering fifteen feet over her sister's head, Elsa squeaked, throwing her arms around his neck in terror.

"You were worried that she wouldn't believe, right?" Jack asked eagerly, gently tossed her in his arms. "This ought to convince her that I exist, don't you think?"

 _ **"ELSAAAAAAAAAAA!"**_ Anna screamed.

 _"Jack!_ _ **ME!"**_ Elsa stammered, her eyes bulging with fear as she stared desperately into his face, _**"**_ _ **Floor! NOW!"**_

"Will you just _tell her_ already?"

Anna was jumping up and down below them, wringing her hands with terror. **_"WHAT ARE YOU NOT TELLING ME?! HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT IN THE AIR?!"_**

 **"** ** _ANNATHISISJACKFROST!"_** Elsa blurted.

Anna abruptly stopped screaming, gasping for breath and staring, dumbfounded, at her sister, who seemed to be floating independently in the air far above her head. A look of genuine confusion swept over her features.

"Wait, _what?"_ Anna squeaked.

Elsa took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut.

" _Jack_ ," she choked, "This is my sister, Princess Anna. Um, Anna…" She took another breath, clinging him tighter as he readjusted his grip on the staff, "This… this is Jack Frost."

"Jack Fr…?" Anna's eyes suddenly widened, and she stumbled backwards a step in shock as he slowly floated towards the ground, placing Elsa back on her feet.

"Mother of North," Jack breathed, "That didn't scare you so much last time, Snowflake."

"You didn't just _grab me_ last time!"

"J-Jack… Jack _Frost?"_ Anna gasped as they turned back to face her.

Jack smiled sheepishly, shrugging and tossing his staff into his other hand. Anna's jaw dropped, her eyes wide, as she stared blankly into space at him.

" _Gorgeous,"_ she breathed.

Jack grinned, raising his eyebrows at Elsa. She blushed, and he turned back to Anna.

"Elsa was a bit reluctant to have me meet you," he explained, "But I wanted to have your permission before trying to pursue—uh—"

His voice trailed off. After a moment of hesitation, Jack Frost sucked in his breath.

"Uh—a _friendship,"_ he finished carefully. "I would like permission to pursue a—friendship—with your sister."

He looked up pleadingly, staring at her through his eyelashes. Biting his lip, his eyes slid in Elsa's direction, and then back into Anna's.

"Per-permission…?" Anna asked dazedly. Then, her eyes snapping back into focus, she gasped. "YES! Yes, of course you have my permission!"

Jack let out his breath as Anna wheeled around to her sister, who was now gripping the edge of the desk so hard that her knuckles were turning white.

 _Conceal!_

" _ElsaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA…?"_ Anna whined excitedly.

"Anna," she choked, gripping the desk harder, "Calm down—"

"—Are you _really_ Jack Frost?" Anna bubbled, spinning back around to Jack, "Can you—like— _wait, are you making it snow?!"_ she gasped, " _ELSA!_ Look! He's making it _snow!"_

Elsa snapped her head up, looking back to them. Glancing upwards into the air, she realized that her sister was right—it was, indeed, snowing.

Around _her._

Elsa felt blood rising to her face.

Grinning, Jack let the staff fall onto his shoulder, shaking his head. "Sorry, Anna," he chuckled under his breath, "But I—uh, I can't take credit for this one."

Slowly pulling in her breath, Elsa turned all the way around to face them, shakily pushing herself off the desk.

"Anna," she squeaked carefully, "Can we… um…?"

Without saying another word, Elsa folded her arms over her chest, hunching her shoulders slightly forward and turning to walk towards the bedroom, gesturing for Anna to join as she pulled open the door. Lurching through the door in front of her, Elsa bit her lip, pulling it shut and stepping into her bedroom as the sisters left the Spirit of Winter standing alone in the art gallery behind them.


	13. Ice Alliance

**13: ICE ALLIANCE**

As soon as the sisters had disappeared into Elsa's bedroom again, the door to the art gallery swinging shut with a _creak,_ Jack carefully walked towards it, eying the knob.

 _Click._

It was closed.

Leaping into the air, the Youngest Guardian swept past the shelves of ice statues in a gust of cold wind, lighting down silently by the desk and holding his breath. Placing his staff on the carpet beside him, Jack Frost crouched down, pressing his ear to the door just in time to hear the slow, squealing crescendo of Princess Anna's ear-piercing whine of delight.

" _EeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEE—"_

" _Anna_ ," Elsa's voice begged, "Whatever you're thinking— _stop thinking it—"_

 _"—_ _EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—!"_

 _"_ _ANNA—"_

 _"—_ _JACK?!_ _ **FROST?!"**_ Anna shrieked, making him startle backwards from the keyhole, " _That's_ your secret! You've been holding out on me because you've been seeing _JACK FROST?!"_

"Anna—"

"— _How long have you been together?"_ she bubbled, " _DETAILS!_ I want details. Tell me _everything!"_

"There's nothing to tell."

Carefully getting up onto his feet again, Jack glanced down to his right forearm, remembering the lipstick mark that was still smeared across his skin.

 _I… disagree._

The girls were talking again. Jack jumped, shaking his head and pressing his ear to the keyhole, hearing Princess Anna let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Elsa, I just wish you'd _consider_ it."

"I _did_ consider it," Elsa retorted. "I considered it, and then I rejected it, because it's preposterous and illogical and _I do not need a man."_

"I never said you needed one."

"But—"

"—But it's sure nice to _haaaaave oooooooone_ ," Anna's voice sang.

Jack restrained from a snort.

"I'll pass."

"But the _benefits!"_

"I don't want to hear about it, Anna."

Jack grinned, readjusting himself by the door.

"And _besides,"_ Elsa started again, "Weren't you _just saying_ how I don't need to be seeing suitors right now?"

"Well, that was _before_ one of your suitors was _Jack Frost—"_

 _"_ _Jack isn't a suitor!"_

"Oh, he's just _Jack_ to you, now?"

There was a long, painful moment of silence.

"Jack isn't a suitor," Elsa squeaked.

He could practically feel her embarrassed blushing through the door. Jack felt his heart swell, and he grinned again, shaking his head.

 _Dawwwwww…_

"So, _that's_ where you've been. The walk," Anna exclaimed. "You weren't going for a walk at _all!_ You were with _Jack Frost!"_

"Alright. You've got me," Elsa sighed. "I was."

"And you were in here, the _whole time?_ Why weren't you answering the door? I knocked—a lot of times, actually, and—OHMYGOSH; _PLEASE_ TELL ME YOU GUYS WEREN'T—"

 **"—** **NO."**

Jack clapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes bulging. Leaning up against the door, he pulled in a long breath, struggling to keep his breathing even.

Right to the point, then!

"We left right after the Council," Elsa explained frantically, "I—I was really upset, so he took me out to the mountains, and—"

"—Jack Frost _took you out on a date_."

There was another long pause.

" _Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,"_ the squealing started again, _"_ _EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—!"_

 _"_ _ANNA—"_

" _EEEEEEEEEEEEEEElsaYouFinallyFinallyFINALLYWentOnA_ _ **DAAAAAAAAATE!**_ _"_ Anna shrieked with joy.

"I've been on dates!"

"With _whom?"_

"Well, with _you!"_

"That is _not_ the same."

 _"_ _Why not?"_ Elsa protested, "You're my _sister!_ Sister Dates are _perfectly_ valid for— _"_

"—I meant a date with a _GUY."_

"He's _not_ a _guy."_

Jack jolted.

 _What?_

On the other side of the door, the floorboards under the carpet creaked, like Elsa was shifting on her feet. Then, he heard her pull in a long breath.

"He's not just a _guy,_ Anna _._ I mean, he—he's _Jack. Frost,"_ Elsa breathed. "This isn't some random _prince_ , we're talking about. This is the _Spirit of Winter."_

Crouching by the door, Jack let out his breath at the clarification.

Anna's voice was giggling again.

"Okay. Fair point," she laughed. "Your first date wasn't with a _guy._ It was with _THE_ guy."

"Anna, what on _earth_ are you talking about?"

"Uh…"

Her voice trailed off, and Princess Anna was whispering something he couldn't quite make out. Pressing his ear harder against the keyhole, Jack listened intently, straining to hear.

" _Anna_ ," Elsa groaned, _"_ _Just_ because he's a _boy_ with _ice powers—"_

"—And _gorgeous—"_

"—It _doesn't_ automatically mean that we're in love," she insisted. "I mean—even if I _was_ good enough for him, that's not how it _works._ And, besides. We've only known each other for one day."

Jack's heart sank, and he bit his lip, looking down and readjusting himself by the door. Oooooh, she was _definitely_ 'good enough.' THAT was for sure.

She _did_ have a point about the _one day_ thing, though…

" _Soooo_ ," Anna's voice prodded, "What _does_ the Spirit of Winter do with the Snow Queen, on a date?"

Elsa let out a nervous laugh. "It wasn't—a _date,"_ she scoffed, the floorboards under the carpet creaking as she walked across the room, "I mean—it's not what you think, Anna. I swear. Jack and I are _friends._ We just—he just took me out, and we had some fun. Like, a bit of an ice-off, and—and we built some—stuff—"

"—You _built. Another. ICE PALACE?!"_ Anna gasped.

"I—"

"—MARRY HIM."

Jack clapped his hand over his mouth again, trying to suppress another snort.

"Anna," Elsa begged, "I—"

"—You _like_ him."

There was a silence.

 _"_ _Oooooooooo!"_ Anna squealed, "I'm _right,_ aren't I? _You_ actually _LIKE_ a _BOY!"_

"Anna, I just—"

"—Oh, HO, you've got it _bad!"_

"What do you mean?"

"You're _blushing!"_

"No, I'm not!"

" _Ooooooh,_ YesYouAreYesYouAre _YesYouAAAARE!_ " Anna shrieked, "I _KNEW_ IT! YOU—"

"—Anna, keep it _down!"_ Elsa choked, "Someone's going to _hear_ you!"

"And, what? Find out that the independent, all-powerful Snow Queen can _have a crush?_ Oh, heaven forbid. _"_

"It is _not_ a crush!" she protested desperately, "I just—I just admire him as a _friend_ , alright? And if he happens to be intelligent and charming as well—"

"— _You_ have a _CRUSH,_ dear sissy," Anna chuckled, "It's not the end of the world. _Believe_ me. And besides, who's going to hear, anyway? The only people around besides you and me are a handful of guards that couldn't care less about what we're doing in here, and an impossibly gorgeous _snow sprite_ in the next room!"

"In the next— _!"_

Elsa gasped, abruptly cutting herself off, and Jack pressed his ear harder into the keyhole, hearing a long pause.

Anna started giggling uncontrollably again.

"Okay," she teased, "I'll leave you two alone…"

"It's _not like that,"_ Elsa's voice retorted with a nervous laugh, "And besides, I have other affairs of the kingdom to worry about. See you in the morning."

"Okay." Anna's voice was growing fainter as she walked away from where Jack was listening. There was a muffled squeal of a set of hinges, and he knew that the door between Elsa's bedroom and the hallway was slowly swinging open. "Love you!"

"I love you too, Anna."

The door beyond the keyhole shut with a sharp _clunk,_ and Jack could hear a faint creaking of floorboards again from the other side of the door.

Elsa was walking back towards the gallery.

His heart leaping into his throat, Jack lurched away from the keyhole and leapt into the air. A flurry of frantic snowflakes materializing out of the air behind him, the Spirit of Winter then swooped down to the other end of the gallery, laying down on his staff as if he'd been there the whole time and hovering in the air just as Elsa opened the door.

.

.

Silently pushing the door shut behind her, Elsa bit her lip, turning and seeing a faint blue glowing at the end of the hallway.

"Mr. Frost?" she quavered, stepping into the art gallery. "Are you still—"

"— _IT'S_ _ **JACK!"**_

Before Elsa could react, there was a gust of frigid air, and the Spirit of Winter was suddenly dropping down onto the carpet next to her. She jolted, jumping to the side with a squeak.

Jack Frost laughed, tossing his staff into his other hand. _"_ _Seriously,_ Snowflake?" he chuckled. "It's _Jack._ NOBODY calls me Mr. Frost _."_

 _Nobody calls me Snowflake,_ Elsa thought.

"I'm sorry," she apologized frantically, "It's just—I—I still kind of can't believe it's you. And I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long—I—I know you're probably busy, and so I—well, it's been really nice to meet you, and—"

"— _Wait_ ," Jack scoffed, "You think I'm _leaving?"_

The comment caught her completely off guard.

"Well—I—um," Elsa squeaked, "You're not?"

"Not while you're still so high-strung."

She looked at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're a _worrywart_ , and that's a problem," Jack retorted. "And, I'm not going _anywhere_ until _you_ learn how to have fun."

"But today _was_ fun!" she protested. "It's just that now I have to get back to reality, and there's a lot of work left to be—"

"—Okay, _that_ statement? Right there? _My point."_

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat as he let his staff fall back onto his shoulder, sticking his opposite hand into the pocket on his shirt as he stepped in front of her.

"I don't care _how_ important or serious or hard your job is," he said fervently, "As the professional fun-haver here, I can _promise_ you: If you don't take a break every once in a while, you'll be losing your life force out your ears."

"I can't just _take breaks,_ Jack," she sighed. "Not with The Council. If I turn my back for two seconds, they'll rip apart my work and take over the kingdom again."

He paused, taking a tiny step back.

"So… for you to _have fun_ ," Jack Frost muttered thoughtfully, flipping his staff over his wrist and sitting down on it in the air, "We need to get your council to stop—being awful."

" _Good luck!"_ Elsa laughed bitterly. "Every time I try to do _anything,_ they're right there to stop me."

"Can't you just fire them?"

"It's not that simple." Elsa shook her head, folding her arms over her chest and looking down to her feet. "There was way too much political heat wrapped up in when my father got them appointed. I can't dismiss them."

Jack smirked, cocking an eyebrow at her teasingly. "Now, how do you know _that?"_

"I tried."

"Oh."

His face fell, and he bit his lip, looking down again. Blowing a tuft of white hair out of his face, Jack shook his head in frustration.

"I'll tell you _one_ thing, Snowflake," he grumbled. "It's real annoying that I can't just tell 'em off."

"Thank you, Jack," Elsa said softly, "I mean—I'm sorry, and I'm sure it _is_ frustrating for you, but—well, that means a lot to me. That you would."

"Yeah. I _would_ ," Jack gritted, "I mean, they're taking away your— _fun_. I mean, that's just WRONG _._ If only I wasn't invisib _—"_

Elsa watched in confusion as Jack Frost's eyes widened, his mouth falling slightly open, as if he'd suddenly been struck with pure inspiration.

" _Wait,_ " he said carefully, looking up to her, "So they—your councilguys—they could still _resign._ Right?"

Elsa bit her lip. "I suppose so," she sighed, "But that's never going to hap—"

"—And a lot of folks around here are superstitious," he continued, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Aren't they?"

"I suppose. Why?"

Elsa jumped as he suddenly leapt up to her, leaning into her ear.

"One willing and able Invisible Phantom _at. Your. SERVICE,"_ he whispered intensely.

His white hair falling forward into his face, Jack Frost stepped back and swept into a deep, dramatic bow in front of her, looking up and grinning mischievously. Realizing what he was saying, Elsa's eyes bulged.

"Are you—are you saying that you want to— _prank_ them into resigning!?" she gasped.

"My Queen. I would _never_ suggest such a thing." He straightened up, shrugging with a hint of a smirk twitching out of the side of his mouth. "But—if something was there to help _motivate_ the old morons to start mysteriously deciding to turn in their resignation papers, one by one—"

"—That's just _—_ _oh!"_

He shrugged again, grinning and backing away with his hands in the air. Her mouth still hanging open, Elsa quickly shook her head.

"But how could I _possibly_ repay you for that?" she breathed.

"I might have a few ideas." Jack nodded, taking a step towards her and gazing into her eyes intensely. "But, for now: it would be an _honor."_

She stared at him in shock. "You really think we could do this?"

"Belief is a _powerful_ thing, Snowflake," he said. "And, besides. We're not going to _hurt_ them, or anything. We're just going to mess with their heads a bit. Have a little fun with them, you know?"

"But like _this?_ Is this—is this _fair?"_

 _"_ _Fair?"_ Jack scoffed, "All of them, against one of you, is what doesn't sound _fair,_ to me."

She reluctantly acknowledged it, biting her lip and nodding. They _were_ trying to mess with her head. And, given that _she_ was supposed to be running the kingdom, the whole idea that she was having to do so at such high personal costs was something of an outrage…

"Do we have a deal?" he chuckled.

Jack was holding out his hand, looking to her expectantly. Elsa hesitated, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Jack," she stammered, "I—I appreciate the offer, but I really—"

"—Your first suitor is coming tomorrow, right?"

Elsa's eyes narrowed.

Setting her jaw, she grabbed his hand, shaking it vigorously.

" _Deal_ ," Elsa gritted.

Jack's eyes widened as she let go of his hand, taking a step back. "Uh," he said quietly, "Snowflake? Am I detecting a little—uh, a little _anger_ at—"

"— _THEY have been MANIPULATING ME for my ENTIRE REIGN!"_ Elsa stammered, "And I—yeah! You're right! I _should_ fight back! This time, they've gone _too_ far!"

He raised his eyebrows, a sly little grin beginning to cross his face again. " _Wow_ ," Jack chuckled. "So, the Snow Queen _does_ have a little fire in her, after all."

"Frost, you have _no_ idea."

They both laughed, and Elsa felt a little color rising to her cheeks. After a few moments, a look of wonder swept over her features.

"So—this is less of a friendship—and—more of a team _,"_ she realized. "Like—like we're an _alliance,_ or something _."_

He snorted. "Allies in a war against your _idiot_ Council?"

"I wasn't going to phrase it that way," she admitted, "But, yes. I suppose that sounds about right."

"Well—if we're making this all official _,_ I feel like we need a name _,_ or something. How are these things usually named?"

"Alliances? They aren't. I mean, not when they're formed _,"_ Elsa explained. "Usually, when groups are named, it's just a slow thing, over time. At some point, somebody starts referring to the group by a nickname that represents what holds it together, and if it sticks—well, that's that."

"A nickname that represents what holds it together, huh?" Jack mused, leaning back against the desk and looking upwards in thought.

"Well—yes. But you can pick any name you like."

"Is that so?" Jack chuckled. "Why me?"

"Because—um—"

He raised an eyebrow, looking at her again teasingly with a hint of a flirty smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

 _"_ _BecauseYou'reJackFrost?"_ she squeaked.

He laughed, pushing himself away from the desk and walking towards her. "Why does _that_ have anything to do with it?"

"You're the _Spirit of Winter!"_

"Yeah," he retorted, "I am. And you're the _Snow Queen_. In fact, I—"

His voice trailed off.

"I think I just figured out what we are," Jack breathed.

Elsa watched as he turned away, walking over to her desk and tapping his staff on its surface. A fine layer of frost blossomed out over the wood, and he reached forward, drawing two circles in the dusting of snow with his pointer finger. Pulling them upwards, the circles became two tubes, wide at the top, hovering in the air in a shimmering mist. Twisting his finger around each in turn, Jack pulled them off, a long stem beneath each.

Leaning the staff up against the wall, he reached forward again to the hovering frost, simultaneously flicking the two floating tubes with his fingers.

 _Ting!_

Jack grinned, snatching up the two long-stemmed wine glasses from the desk and whirling back around to face her.

"Got anything to drink?" he asked suddenly.

Elsa shrugged as he walked towards her, holding out one of the glasses. "I have a pitcher of water," she offered.

"Meh. Boring. We're _celebrating._ Anything with bubbles?"

"We need to drink something with bubbles in it?"

"Isn't that how you snooty types celebrate things?"

" _Snooty_ types!"

" _Well?"_

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Sorry," she laughed. "Fresh out of drinks with bubbles."

"Then we'll just have to pretend, won't we?"

She took the glass, raising her eyebrows as Jack drew himself up. Grinning, he clinked his glass against hers.

"I still don't know what we're toasting," Elsa admitted as he dramatically raised the empty champagne glass to his lips. "What are we celebrating?"

He paused.

Slowly pulling his glass away, Elsa watched as he leaned in close to her face, mischievously peering up at her through his hair.

"We're celebrating _us_ , your majesty," Jack Frost whispered. "And the official formation of the world's first _Ice Alliance."_


	14. Snow Day

**14: SNOW DAY**

After staying up far later than was proper (laughing and talking with her new friend), Elsa woke the next morning to find herself lying on the floor of her art gallery, fully-clothed in the same blue dress that she had been wearing the night before with a blanket thrown over her body and a tiny snowman nestled into the crook of her arm. Jack Frost, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Blushing with embarrassment as she pushed herself up, her back aching from another night's sleep in her corset, Elsa sat back onto her hip, looking to the little snowman on the floor beside her. As her eyes fell upon it, she realized that it wasn't a snowman, but a tiny, crystalline bear made of ice, gleaming in the early morning moonlight that was pouring in through her balcony doors.

An expression of curiosity sweeping over her face, the young queen reached for the little bear to look at it closer. As she picked it up off the ground, its loosely-jointed legs swung downwards, clacking softly against each other in the silence. Lifting up one of the bear's frosty arms and looking into its face, Elsa realized what her new friend had left her holding, asleep on the floor of her art gallery.

It was a teddy bear.

Smiling in spite of herself, Elsa knelt down on the carpet, turning the beautiful little bear over in her hands, its loose, hard legs and arms clacking against each other again as she did so. Her _own_ ice statues had the appearance of frosted glass, and while her surface detail work was far superior, the rose and the teddy bear were stunningly clear, with nothing more than a faint blue tint inside what was otherwise flawless and structurally perfect ice.

Oh, my.

The Spirit of Winter was _good_ with ice.

Feeling herself blushing again, Elsa smiled, her heart skipping a beat. As she got up, the Snow Queen gently brushed her hand over the crystalline teddy bear, watching as the sparkling shimmer only she knew to be magic settled over its surface. It wouldn't melt, now _._

Much better.

Walking into her bedroom and drawing herself up in an attempt to stretch out her back muscles, Elsa paced over to one of the decorative chairs in the corner nearest her dresser, lovingly setting the icy teddy bear onto the cushion. Was _everything_ he made this beautiful?

As she turned around to look across the room to the rose, Elsa jolted.

She ran forward to the dresser. Yes—elegantly flowered across the large mirror, a fine dusting of twisting, spiraling frost was glistening softly in the fading moonlight. But there was something— _drawn_ in it?

Elsa reached across the surface of the dresser for her lamp. Twisting its key, the flame burst up into the glass tubing, and the young queen pulled it back across the wood, eying the enormous mirror again. The room suddenly flooded with light, and it was then that she realized the drawing in the frost wasn't a drawing at all.

It was writing.

 _'_ _Morning, Snowflake!_

 _Had to go do some stuff. Hope you slept well._

 _-J_

 _P.S. Sorry for leaving you on the floor_

 _._

Feeling heat rushing to her cheeks again, Elsa pushed back the lamp. Her heart skipping another beat as she considered the note, the young queen stepped away from her dresser, reaching down to her current dress to disintegrate it.

A few minutes later, wearing a fresh, romantically-pink gown of ice and finishing the last touches on her eyeshadow, Elsa heard a knock.

"THE MORNING POST, YOUR WONDERFULNESS!" shrieked a voice through the wood. "MAY I ENTER YOUR ROOM?"

Placing the eyeshadow on her dresser and spinning around to the door, Elsa laughed softly under her breath, shaking her head as she walked across the room. _"_ _Coming!"_

 _Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock!_

"MAY I ENTER YOUR ROOM?"

"I'm _coming,_ Olaf!"

Throwing back the bolt and grasping the handle, Elsa pulled the door open just in time for a short, giggling mound of snow to come lurching through.

 _"_ _The MORRRRRning mail and newspaper,_ Your Gloriousness!" Olaf sang, whirling around to face her and holding the tray up as far as he could. "Good morning, Queen Elsa!"

"Good morning, Olaf," Elsa laughed, taking the tray and starting to walk back to the dresser. "Any news from the kingdom?"

"It's a _SNOW DAY!"_

Elsa froze.

After a few moments, gripping the little tray, she slowly turned around to face the snowman.

"A—a _snow day?"_ she breathed.

"Oh, _yes!_ YesYesYes _YES,_ and I heard it from the kids _themseeeeeeeelves!"_ Olaf squealed excitedly, "During the night, we got nearly four _feet_ of it! _All_ of the schools and shops are closed. And _everything_ is covered with _SNOW!"_

Snow.

Turning and looking back to the writing on the mirror, Elsa's heart leapt.

Of _course_ he did.

She smiled dreamily, feeling herself blushing again as she resumed walking, placing the tray of letters and newsprint on the edge of the dresser. Pulling her hair into three sections and beginning to twist it into a braid, she then turned around, leaning back against the dresser and gazing up at the mural of ice flowers sprawled across the opposite corner of the room.

"It's _really_ a Snow Day?" she asked wistfully. "It would have—it would have had to fall _very_ early, this morning, if it was."

Olaf nodded. " _Four. FEET._ Of it," he repeated, " _Snow_ , snow; sparkly, fluffy, beautiful, _WONDERFUL_ _snooOOOoow_ , and The Hill is full to _BURSTING!"_

"My _goodness!"_ Elsa exclaimed, "Already? But the sun's not even up yet!"

The snowman scoffed, putting his stick hands on his hips. "It's. The _Hill,"_ he giggled. "Do you think the kids are going to _wait?"_

She rolled her eyes, laughing again as she turned back to the mirror. "Good point, Olaf. I guess not."

The Children's Hill—or, _The Hill_ , as most everyone called it—was a designated play area behind the castle that was maintained specifically by Queen Elsa for all the local children of the kingdom. There were a few playsets of various sorts towards the bottom, but its main draw for most of the year was that Elsa made sure that the hill _itself_ was covered with a thick, soft layer of snow, making it an absolutely perfect spot for year-round snowmen, snowball fights, snow forts, and sledding. The children adored her for it, _and_ —to make sure that no one got hurt—there was no sweeter, kinder, or friendlier overseer to be found than Olaf the snowman. And it was an excellent place for him to be, of course, because his personal flurry couldn't be expected to do _all_ of the work, but even on a place like The Hill, a Snow Day was an unusual and cherished occurrence. Without question _,_ The Hill would be crowded _today._

" _I_ just can't believe you kept it a _secret!"_ Olaf bubbled happily, "Why didn't you tell us? I wish you'd told _me._ It's so fun, and I—um—"

Elsa was dreamily gazing off into space again, flicking her fingers over her braid and sending a sparkle of snowflakes falling across the light gold strands.

"Wait," Olaf tried again, shuffling up to her on his rounded feet, "You—you _did_ make it a Snow Day—didn't you?"

" _Oh!_ I—um," Elsa stammered, snapping back into focus, "No! I mean—no. I'm not responsible for this one."

"Huh," Olaf realized, his snowy eyebrows lifting in surprise. "It must have happened naturally, then. Or something."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Or… or something…"

Her voice trailed off. Turning around and leaning back against the dresser, Elsa looked across the room again, her gaze falling onto the elegant, gleaming ice rose resting on her nightstand.

Oh, _wow…_

An expression of concern swept over Olaf's face. Turning away from Elsa, he then reached forward, pulling out the dresser drawers and beginning to pull himself up.

Stroking her braid thoughtfully, Elsa sighed again, smiling dumbly as she began to look to the side, and—

 ** _"_** ** _GAUGH!"_**

 _"_ _Elsaaaaaa?"_ Olaf pressed, looking at her suspiciously and she clapped her hand over her heart, suddenly two inches from his enormous eyes, "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Her heart pounding, Elsa leaned back from him, her mouth hanging open with shock. Struggling to find words, she swallowed hard, glancing to the mirror that was now mere inches from Olaf's snowy feet.

Seeing where she was looking, Olaf glanced to the side, suddenly straightening up as he saw the note. _"_ _Oh!"_ he exclaimed, "What's this?"

"I—!" Elsa squeaked. Blood rushing to her face, she shakily gripped the edge of the dresser as Olaf trundled over to the center of its surface, staring intently at the frosty message in her mirror.

"Interesting," he muttered thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "Very… interesting…"

Elsa bit her lip as the snowman turned around to face her.

"I still can't read," Olaf said.

 _Right._

A wave of relief rushing over her, Elsa drew in her breath. "It's nothing, Olaf," she lied, forcing a smile. "Everything is perfectly normal. I'm not hiding anything."

She drew herself up, giving a quick shrug and nodding. The snowman stared at her for a long moment, studying her face.

With a sudden gasp, Olaf leapt into the air, his middle section twirling independently from his bottom.

"Is it a _BOOOOOY?!"_

 _"_ _OLAF!"_ Elsa jolted.

"But we _need_ to find your _True Love!"_ Olaf protested as she crossed her arms over her chest and threateningly raising her eyebrows.

" _Olaf,"_ she groaned, glaring at him in motherly annoyance, "We've _talked_ about this."

"But I want you to be _happy!_ You need _love!"_

"I _have_ love. Plenty of it." Elsa stepped forward, gently picking him up from under his arms and lifting him off the dresser. "I love you, and Anna, and Kristoff, and Sven, and _all_ the people of Arendelle! Don't you think that's _enough?"_

"But you don't have your _True_ Love _,"_ Olaf whined as she set him on the floor.

"I don't _need_ a True Love, Olaf."

"Oooooooh, SURE you do!" he exclaimed, beginning to trundle back into the center of the room, "We just need to find you a nice boy with brains, and strong teeth, and a good personality, and ice powers!"

He paused, turning back to face her as Elsa froze, the statement catching her off-guard.

"Seen any?" Olaf asked.

She jumped, snapping back into focus. "What?"

"Have you seen any?" the snowman repeated, "I was just thinking—if we're going to find you a boy, we'd need to make sure that—"

"—So, how's the naming going?" Elsa asked suddenly.

"What naming?"

"The Snogies?" she prompted, desperate to change the subject, "From every time I've sneezed, between my coronation and now? You still have a few dozen nameless brothers _left,_ don't you?"

" _Oh! Oh,_ yes! The naming is going _great!"_ Olaf exclaimed, tottering over to the chair where Elsa had sat down the papers and pulling out a piece of parchment. Beaming, he bounded back over to her by the dresser, holding it out.

"I made a _list_ to show you," he bubbled.

"A list?" Elsa asked in confusion, taking it, "But I thought that you were still working on the A, B, C's with Anna and Kristoff in the…"

Her voice trailed off as she looked down, her eyes falling onto the paper in her hand. The piece of parchment had on it thirteen wavy lines on it, two smudges, and a smiley face.

Oh, Olaf.

"I'm _practicing_ my _writing_ ," the snowman said proudly.

"It's—um—it's beautiful, Olaf," Elsa stammered, restraining from a laugh as she handed him back the list. "But would you mind reading it to me?"

"I know it by heart."

"Perhaps you could recite it, then?"

"Of course."

Olaf cleared his throat, holding up the list. Then, putting it back down, he stood up as tall as he could, beginning to walk back a forth across the room as Elsa turned back to the mirror, materializing more snowflakes into her hair.

"The continued list of names for my Snowgie Brethren goes as _follooooows_ ," he warbled, "Ahem… _Sparkle, Stormy, Beans, Hammie, Gordy, Bon-Bon, Chub, Penguin, Coconut, Leonardo Lewis Linus the Third, Ned_ , and _oh_ , I _like_ this!"

Elsa raised her eyebrows in interest, turning around and looking back down to the little snowman. Standing by the decorative chair in the corner, Olaf let out a bubbly giggle of a laugh, rolling forward on his rounded feet and hugging the icy teddy bear to his chest.

Her heart leapt into her throat.

"Olaf," she choked, "I—I can explain—"

"—I've never seen you _make_ anything like this!" Olaf gasped, pausing and holding out the teddy bear again, "Why haven't you? You really should make more."

"I—"

"He's soooOOOOoooo _CUTE!"_ Olaf squealed in delight, cuddling the teddy bear with joy, "He's like—he's like a little _baby_ BUNDLE of icy snowy frosty _beeeeeeear cub_ — _!"_

He lovingly embraced it again, his voice trailing off into a fit of exuberant giggling.

Elsa stared at him in shock. She'd made Olaf ice statues before— _lots_ of them. And toys, as well, of various kinds, as he seemed to enjoy them so much. For as far as she had been able to see, Olaf adored pretty much anything that anyone gave him, including the gifts from the children who lived in the villages surrounding the castle.

It was almost as if Jack Frost had some sort of connection to Olaf that she wasn't aware of.

"Does he have a name yet?" Olaf blurted suddenly.

Elsa jolted back into focus. "Um… what?"

"A name," Olaf repeated, clutching the teddy bear in his stick arms and shuffling over to her. "Does he have a name?"

"I—uh," she admitted, "I suppose not."

"WELL. _I_ will name him, then," the snowman declared, "He's too _cute_ to not have a name. And, _everyone_ deserves a _name._ I'll name him—uh—"

His voice trailed off as he held out the icy teddy bear, looking into its face with concern. After a few moments, seeing his expression, Elsa walked over to him, a good-natured smile tugging at the edge of her mouth.

" _Tell you what,"_ she whispered, bending down to look into Olaf's eyes, "If you promise to take really, _really_ good care of him—"

Olaf gasped, his mouth falling open in delight.

"—Why don't you—um," Elsa finished, restraining from a laugh as the snowman began to tremble in anticipation, "Why don't you hold onto him, for me?"

" _OOOOOOOOOOOOH!"_ Olaf squealed, spinning around and leaping into the air with joy, " _THANK_ yoooou! _ThankYouThankYouThankYouYesYesYesYESSSSSSSSS_ , I _PROMISE!_ I _promise,"_ he added solemnly, whirling back around to face her and gazing at her with the utmost sincerity. "I will take _very_ good care of him."

"Of course," she said kindly. "I'm sure you will, Olaf."

Elsa smiled, straightening up as Olaf cuddled the crystalline teddy bear into his chest again, its legs squeaking softly against the soft snow of his belly. "I'll think of a name," he promised, beginning to shuffle forward on his rounded feet towards the door, "And I'll ask all the kids, too. At The Hill."

"Oh—that's right," Elsa remembered, following him across the room and reaching for the handle, "You _do_ need to get back to The Hill, don't you?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "It's going to be SO much fun!" Olaf giggled, walking out into the hall as Elsa held the door for him. "Snow day, snow day, SNOW DAY—"

"—It sounds wonderful, Olaf," Elsa laughed. "Good luck. I love y—"

But the snowman had already gone bouncing down the hall, running to the nearest maid at the end and showing her his new, icy companion. Elsa smiled, shaking her head and quietly shutting the door.

Turning around and walking over to the dresser, her capelet billowing behind her across the carpet, Elsa came to a stop in front of the tray of letters and picked up the newspaper. Absent-mindedly flipping it open, her eyes fell onto the headline of the first article.

 _SNOW QUEEN'S FIRST SUITOR ARRIVES IN ARENDELLE_

 _With appropriate fanfare, King Edvin of Hordalunde by ship last evening, accompanied by multiple nobles and attendants. In a shocking turn of events, the Royal Spokesmen of the Kingdom announced just hours earlier that the Snow Queen of Arendelle has agreed to—_

Elsa jolted.

Blushing furiously, she slammed the paper down onto her dresser, turning back to the silver tray. Of _course_ they had already announced it to the press. They probably had prepared the statement before The Council even took place _._ It wasn't a surprise—well, it _shouldn't_ have surprised her, that they'd pull something like that, but this—but it just was— _really!?_

She shook her head vigorously, trying to focus on the rest of the mail, flipping quickly through the letters. Unlike the newspaper article, everything else seemed to be pleasantly normal. Requests from various nobles, a thank you note, an invitation, _another_ thank you note, political something, political something, political something, and what on _earth…?_

At the very bottom of the pile, a tiny, blank envelope was left sitting alone on the silver tray. Setting down the rest of the mail, Elsa reached for it, picking up the little package and studying it in confusion. After a few moments, turning it over in curiosity, she realized that there was a small object sitting inside the envelope's bottom corner.

And it was— _cold._

Her breath catching, Elsa leapt back with the envelope, turning and running for her art gallery. Rounding the corner for the desk, she threw the envelope to the side, yanking open the drawer and frantically digging through the pens and papers inside. Finally, pulling out a long, silver letter-opener, she stuck it into the sealed edge of the envelope, ripping it open. Realizing that there was a small piece of parchment inside, she took it out, her eyes skimming over the messy scrawl.

 _You're going to be FINE._

 _-J_

 _P.S. Also, I ran into Anna. She invited me to breakfast with you._

 _P.S.S. Actually, she invited me to marry you. Breakfast was my suggestion._

 _See you in a few._

Feeling a little heat rushing to her cheeks again, Elsa turned over the envelope, watching as a small, delicate something fell into her opposite palm. Looking at it closer, her breath caught.

Glinting in the early morning moonlight, Elsa picked up the end of the clear, crystalline chain, pulling it out of her hand and lifting a tiny, intricate pendant of a snowflake. The pendant, not surprisingly, was made of ice, sparkling and glowing against the relative darkness of the art gallery.

It was beautiful.

Forgetting the humiliation of the newspaper article as she turned the little pendant over in her hands, feeling its smooth surface, Elsa's heart leapt. Reaching under her braid, she felt for the end of the chain as she strung it around her neck, fusing it together with a flick of her fingers. Letting it go, the pendant fell onto her dress, the necklace hitting exactly the wrong spot.

Looking down, Elsa bit the edge of her lip. It was a _tiny_ bit longer than expected. Normally, she would have just shortened the chain, but this was—well, it was a _gift._ And it was usually seen as fairly rude to alter a gift. If only there was a way to—

A mischievous smile twitched out of the side of Elsa's mouth, and she reached for her neckline, gently touching the center of the bodice's top. She closed her eyes.

 _Whoosh._

The top inch-and-a-half of the icy bodice rushed away into the air as Elsa flicked her fingers off, disintegrating it into a shimmering mist of frost as she reconfigured the dress's neckline into a deep sweetheart cut. Now free of the excess fabric, the necklace fell back perfectly, another inexplicable rush of joy shooting through her as the gleaming pendant touched her skin once again.

Restraining from a tiny giggle, Elsa looked down, admiring the snowflake hanging over what was now a daring single inch of cleavage. The pendant glimmered in the faint light, the perfect little piece of ice perfectly aligned with the bodice's neckline.

Elsa spun around, practically running back into her room for the door.


	15. Fun Drunk

**CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo (like, a wee bit more than usual). But don't worry, everything's still rated t!**

 **.**

 **15: FUN DRUNK**

Coming to the turn in the hallway, Elsa forced herself to slow down, trying to appear casual. She smiled and thanked the maids as they opened the doors, and stepped into the room, dark in the morning pre-dawn of the Scandinavian December. The long table was lit with candles. They hadn't yet been served, which made sense, because she'd come a few minutes early.

Suddenly, a lanky figure materialized in front of her, and Elsa startled, letting out a tiny shriek.

"Oh—sorry," Jack apologized, "Did I scare you?"

"YES," she gasped. "Don't—don't do that again. Ever."

He swept into a deep bow, taking her hand. "Please accept my apologies, then," he said, kissing it. As he stood up, Elsa saw his eyes quickly dart to the pendant resting on her chest, lingering for a brief moment longer than it would have taken to look at the necklace. He quickly hid it, looking up into her eyes again.

"Oh! You're—uh," Jack said, his eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise, "You're—wearing it already?"

"Thank you for making it for me," Elsa whispered. She smiled shyly, looking down and pulling the necklace forward to look at the snowflake again.

As she did so, the pendant swinging out away from her skin, her heart leapt into her throat.

"Was—wait, was I not supposed to wear it yet?" Elsa gasped suddenly, her face going pale as she snapped her head up, "I—I'm sorry, if—"

"—You're _fine!"_ Jack laughed. "I just thought it'd help with the—"

He abruptly cut himself off. Elsa bit her lip, watching as Jack Frost slowly pulled in his breath, then opening his mouth to try again.

"I—wasn't thinking you'd put it on yet," he said carefully.

Elsa nodded. Then, as she anxiously dropped the pendant back onto her skin, she felt a random burst of joy shoot through her. She smiled again, blushing slightly with embarrassment at her own nervousness.

"But it's _beautiful!"_ she laughed softly, "Why wouldn't I put it on yet?"

"Um—no reason."

They turned around, beginning to walk towards the table. Elsa pulled in another breath.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep on you," she blurted. "By the way."

Caught off-guard by the statement, Jack raised his eyebrows, letting out a sharp laugh. "Yeaaaaaah," he chuckled, "You were pretty tuckered-out. How much do you remember?"

"We were debating the merits of daytime versus nighttime snowstorms, and then I blinked, and then I woke up."

"Ah," he nodded. "You've never stayed up really, really late before?"

"Oh, come now. Of _course_ I have," Elsa retorted, "I just—well—when I've been researching, or gotten really into a draft of a treaty, or something, I'll often lose track of time, and—"

"—I meant, staying up for _fun."_

"Oh."

Fingering the pendant again, Elsa's heart leapt, the strange rush sweeping through her body again. She then looked back to him, shrugging.

"I—I suppose I haven't," she admitted.

To this, Jack grinned, leaning in close to her face. "The Kingdom of Arendelle—it can't be _all_ hard work and deadlines," he whispered, flirtatiously peering up at her through his eyelashes. "Not even under _your_ rule, Snowflake."

Grinning again, he reached forward, playfully flicking the end of her nose. Elsa opened her mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by a long, shrill squeal from the opposite side of the room.

She jumped, spinning around. "Good morning, Anna," Elsa laughed. "Calm down, Anna."

"But it's sooooOOOOoooo _CUTE_ ," Anna exclaimed.

Jack smiled sheepishly, leading Elsa over to her place and pulling out her chair in front of one of the four place settings. As she sat down and he pushed her in, Anna's eyes went glassy again, her face turning pink with delight. Elsa laughed softly, shaking her head. "Thank you, Jack," she said, turning to him again as he sat down next to her. "I'm glad you could make it this morning."

"I'm glad I was invited," he shrugged, grinning. "And that I can be here to offer moral support for today's… activities."

"Oh… yes," she said quietly. "Right."

Jack grasped Elsa's hand under the table, leaning into her ear. "Elsa, you're going to be _fine,"_ he whispered.

"Oh, I know that," she shrugged, smiling. "I'm actually feeling really good about it."

He raised his eyebrows, quickly looking to the necklace again. "You are?"

"Yeah. Go figure," she giggled, "I'm supposed to be scared right now. I _should_ be scared, actually. The fact that I'm _not_ scared is scaring me."

"Oh, come off it," Jack said, squeezing her hand and glancing to the left, "No one's _supposed_ to be scared. When is the first sorry sap going to show up?"

"If by _sorry sap_ you mean _suitor,"_ Elsa retorted, raising her eyebrows, "Then the first audience is at 2:30 this afternoon. And there's only one today, I've been told."

"So, we've got a little time."

"Yes, but not much. There are a lot of general kingdom affairs I have to take care of before then."

Elsa looked back up across the table to Anna, who was intently watching the two of them, a dazed, dreamy expression on her face. Elsa let out a bark of nervous laughter. "Your face is going to _freeze_ that way, if you keep smiling like that," she giggled. "By the way, where's Kristoff? He's usually back by now."

"Oh!" Anna's eyes snapped back into focus, and she shook her head. "He's got a bigger shipment than usual today, apparently. At least, that's what he told me. He doesn't know if he can be—"

There was a loud clopping sound, and the three of them turned to see Kristoff, covered with snow, and Sven come gallivanting into the room, tracking slush across the wooden floor.

 _"Kristoff!_ You're home!" Anna got up from her chair, stumbling over to him to help him take off his coat, gloves, boots, and scarf. Elsa, noticing the snow that he'd tracked in, subtly aimed her hand at the floor from under the table. Normally, she would have been upset, but—well—it was _no big deal,_ she thought, feeling the strange, joyful sensation again. He'd learn not to do that eventually.

Her eyes narrowing in concentration, Elsa flicked her fingers.

 _Whoosh._ In a tiny gust of wind, the slush swept up into the air over the wooden planks, sparkling as it disintegrated.

Elsa smiled, the rush of happiness sweeping through her again. She glanced back to Jack, sitting next to her. He was grinning. Before he could say anything, she raised her eyebrows, putting her finger to her lips. He nodded.

"I'm so happy you made it _back_ in time!" Anna said excitedly, "Were you able to get all the deliveries done?"

"Yes. Barely," Kristoff laughed, putting his arm around her and pulling her into a kiss. As she pulled off his scarf, placing it on the pile of snowy clothing by the door, she kissed him back, and he laughed, placing his hand on her stomach.

"And how's little Mushroom doing today?" he asked her.

"Energetic, as usual," Anna giggled, "I'm _really_ hoping that I can actually—you know—eat breakfast in its _entirety_ today. And we are _not_ naming our child _Mushroom._ "

"Mushroom is a _great_ name!"

"No, it's not. It's a fungus."

"We'll convince you yet, my love," he retorted, "Won't we, Sven?"

The reindeer whinnied approvingly, and Kristoff nodded, pulling out a carrot and giving it to him. He sat down obediently, and Elsa smiled as Kristoff let out a hearty laugh. Then, with Kristoff in his slightly-cleaner sock feet, he and Anna walked back over to the table, sitting down.

"And how are you, dear sister-in-law?" Kristoff asked, looking to Elsa.

"Just _wonderful_ , thank you," she exclaimed, beaming.

Kristoff raised his eyebrows, laughing good-naturedly. "Well, _somebody's_ chipper this morning," he replied. He then gestured to Jack. "So… is anyone going to tell me who this is?"

Elsa and Anna's eyes widened. Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Wait," he laughed nervously, looking at Kristoff with puzzled eyes, "You—you can _see_ me?"

"Um…" Kristoff's voice trailed off. He glanced around the table in confusion, then finally looking back to Jack. "I… think so?"

 _THUNK._ Jack stood up, bumping into the table and knocking over his staff from where it had been leaning with a clatter. He ignored it, eagerly sticking out his hand to Kristoff. "Well, then. Great to meet you," he said, "I'm Jack Frost."

Kristoff took it, shaking it so vigorously that Jack almost lost his balance. Elsa restrained from giggling. "I'm Kristoff," he replied. "And—Jack Frost? You mean, like the _Guardian_ , Jack Frost? Seriously?"

Jack grinned sheepishly, and turned over his hand. Kristoff's eyes bulged as a large, intricate snowflake materialized in front of him in the air. Jack blew on the side of it, and it twirled around, then bursting into a few hundred tiny snowflakes, falling softly onto the table between them. Elsa beamed again, squeezing her hands between her knees under the table to keep herself from bursting into applause. Why _was_ she so— _randomly_ —happy?

"In the flesh," Jack laughed, sitting back down.

Anna's jaw was dropped, and she grabbed Kristoff's arm. "How did you…?"

Kristoff laughed, turning to Anna and Elsa. "Oh, come on… you know," he said, "The Guardians! Like… Santa Claus… the Tooth Fairy… the Man in the Moon…?"

Anna and Elsa stared at him blankly. Kristoff's eyes widened.

"Man, what did they _teach_ you here?" he scoffed, "You mean that you never—?"

There was a brief moment of awkward silence. A maid and a butler came into the room, putting down three glasses of freshly-squeezed juice in front of Anna, Elsa, and Kristoff. Pausing at Jack's seat, the butler stopped, a confused expression on his face.

"Um… your majesty?" he quavered, looking to Elsa.

Anna stood abruptly, lurching to catch herself on the table as she nearly fell over from the weight of her pregnant stomach. "I'm so sorry," she said quickly, "Our fourth guest—um—hasn't come yet. Can you just leave his things there?"

The butler, breathing a sigh of relief, turned and placed the juice down onto the table. As his hand reached through Jack's body, Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff simultaneously sucked in their breath. The butler, his face flushed, snapped his head up to see what was wrong.

Jack shrugged, smiling. Elsa felt a rush of excitement, and found herself, for no apparent reason, _grinning_ again. "Thank you. That should be fine," she told the butler. He turned and hurriedly paced out of the room, and everyone turned back to Kristoff.

"As we were discussing," Elsa said, "That we'd never heard of the Guardians before yesterday? No. We hadn't."

"You mean, not at all?"

"No," Anna said, a confused expression on her face. "I mean, we believed in Santa Claus and such, but... they're real?"

"There's a reason that your butler just put his hand straight through me," Jack said. Everyone turned back to him, and he looked to Kristoff. "So, how did _you_ find out about us?"

Kristoff shrugged. "I was raised by Rock Trolls," he explained, "And Grandpabbi knew the Man in the Moon. He told us all about the Guardians—well—you guys," he corrected.

"Me included?"

"Oh, yeah," Kristoff replied, "All of you. Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman, and… you? You became a Guardian just this year, right? Grandpabbi said Jack Frost was the new one."

"Very good!" Jack laughed, starting to take a drink, "A _fine_ education, then!"

"And, of course," Kristoff chuckled, "My adoptive mother had a _massive_ crush on the Easter Bun—"

 ** _"—PFFFFFFFFFFFFT!"_**

Jack slammed the glass back down, clapping his hand over his mouth. After a few moments of stunned silence, Kristoff looked down at his juice-soaked shirt. He then slowly looked back up, his gaze meeting Jack's again.

"I take it that doesn't sit well with you," he said coldly.

"I—I am so sorry," Jack choked, "I just—Bunny and I aren't exactly best friends—"

"—No worries."

Jack grimaced, looking nervously to Elsa. She had buried her face in her hands, her ears going red with embarrassment, unsuccessfully trying to restrain from laughing. It was just… _so. Funny. Why was it so funny?_

As Kristoff started to say something again, the butler and maid returned, each carrying two plates of food. Kristoff abruptly shut his mouth. The maid stopped, staring at the empty place at the table. Then, the butler glaring at her, she quickly shook her head, nervously walking forward with him and putting one plate down in front of Elsa, and another through Jack's apparently-invisible body onto the table. Elsa thanked them, and they quickly left, pacing a little faster than usual towards the door.

The four sat in silence again, staring at each other, as the door closed. Finally, Kristoff cleared his throat.

" _So_ ," he started again, looking back to Jack, "What brings _Jack Frost_ to Arende—oh. Wait," Kristoff drawled, his eyes sliding in Elsa's direction. "Don't tell me."

"I'm pursuing a—um," Jack said carefully, " _Friendship_ —with your sister-in-law."

"Of course you are." He then glanced to Elsa again, and raised his eyebrows, turning back to Jack and leaning across the table. "And—um— _good luck."_

" _Kristoff!"_ Anna exclaimed, hitting his shoulder. He shook his head with a chuckle, and Jack Frost shrugged, the sheepish grin tugging at the edge of his mouth as his eyes darted to Elsa's necklace again.

Feeling another strange jolt of happiness, she gestured to the plates. "So," Elsa laughed, "Are we going to ever actually _eat_ , or…?"

"Oh, _GOOD_ suggestion!" Anna exclaimed, "I'm STARVING!"

She and Elsa each picked up a utensil, starting on a different food on their plate. Elsa began daintily cutting into her slice of ham, while Anna immediately went for the tiny pastries lacing the sides. Kristoff looked down at his table setting, with the numerous forks and spoons of all different sizes. Elsa could see, on the corner of her eye, that Jack was also confusedly looking at the royal assortment of utensils.

" _No… darling…"_ Anna's voice murmured. Elsa and Jack both looked across the table, to see Princess Anna desperately trying to help her husband. "Not—no, that one's for the berries—"

Elsa smiled in spite of herself as Kristoff dropped the tiny fork with frustration, letting it fall onto the table with a clatter and selecting a different one. " _Anna_ ," he groaned, "I love you, but I've told you a million times. I am _never_ going to remember which one is which."

"Oh, good," Jack laughed, raising his eyebrows, "So, I'm not the only one."

Kristoff shrugged, looking up to Jack. "Usually, I just pick one at random."

" _Kristoff!"_ Anna exclaimed again.

Trying to restrain from a laugh, Elsa kneaded her eyebrows. _"Seriously?"_ she laughed breathily, looking to Jack, "You don't? I would have figured that you would have pranked people about this."

"Oh, I have. Believe me, I have," Jack said, turning to her and smiling slyly again, "It's hilarious. When the guy is trying to have a sophisticated, romantic dinner, you just sneak up behind him and take away one fork at a time… and, over the course of the meal, you get to just watch as he loses his mind, trying to figure out why his date has seven forks, and he suddenly only has four…"

Elsa giggled, the light feeling rushing through her. "That is _pure evil_ ," she retorted.

"Thank you."

"So, you don't know which fork to use?"

"Nope," Jack shrugged. "But I can guarantee you that I'll pick up the right one."

Kristoff let out a bitter laugh. "How's that?" he chuckled, "Teach me. I beg you. Some sort of magic trick?"

"No. Just hedging my bets," Jack replied.

He then calmly scooped the entire line of forks up into his right hand, stabbing his roll with all of them at once.

CHUNK.

Kristoff burst out laughing, clapping his hand over his eyes and sinking into his chair as Anna protested, and Jack Frost casually took a bite out of the roll stuck onto the end of all the forks. Giggling uncontrollably, Elsa buried her face in her hands, helplessly struggling to stop herself from laughing. But she couldn't. It was just—she wasn't sure why it was so FUNNY, but somehow it _was,_ looking at Jack Frost beside her, holding up the most ridiculous solution to mastering the line of forks that she had ever seen. It was just so _funny._ EVERYTHING was funny; the forks were funny, the rules were funny, Jack was funny, and _OH MY WORD JACK FROST WAS FUNNY._

" _Technically_ ," Jack chuckled, leaning over to her in his chair and making Elsa jump again, "I _am_ holding the right one. Somewhere in here."

" _Oh my word,"_ she gasped, "Put that thing down!"

"Not proper table etiquette?"

"NO."

A hint of a sly little smirk tugged at the edge of Jack's mouth again as he eyed the roll, considering the statement. Then, his face grave, Elsa watched as he adjusted his grip on the fork bouquet, looking to her solemnly and raising his eyebrows.

"Is this better?"

Jack Frost extended his pinky finger.

Kristoff was now laughing so hard that he was crying. Jack shrugged, grinning sheepishly as he put down the roll, and looked back to Elsa, who was redder than ever, giggling uncontrollably.

"Elsa?"

Elsa looked across the table to her sister. Anna seemed to be the only one who didn't find the situation funny, with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Elsa, what's gotten _into_ you?" Anna asked quietly, "You're so— _giddy_ , all of a sudden!"

 _"I have NOOOOOOOO IDEAAAA!"_ Elsa squealed, "It's just so—I don't _KNOW_ why I'm laughing! Everything is just so _FUNNY_ today!"

She leaned over onto the table, thumbing the pendant in-between her fingers and trying to take deep breaths. After a few moments, giving up, Elsa dropped it back onto her chest, dissolving into a fit of hysterical giggling again as another random shot of glee surged through her chest.

Anna's eyes widened. " _Elsa!"_

 _"WHAT?"_ Elsa giggled, _"_ I'm _fiiiiiiiiiiine!"_

 _"Your necklace!"_

"OoOOOOoh, Jack made it for me! What about it?"

"It's—it's _glowing!"_

 _"_ _Really?"_

Eagerly looking down to the little snowflake, Elsa's hands flew to the necklace's chain, and she giggled again, flicking her fingers over the ice. It fell instantly into her hand, and she grasped the chain, pulling the pendant up to inspect it, and—

She froze.

Catching the colors of the sunrise from the enormous window behind them, the pendant glittered eerily as it turned before her in the air, all the joy she had so randomly possessed suddenly sucked away from her. Watching it with disbelief, Elsa felt a wave of fear wash over her body again, the pit in her stomach returning.

"Wha—?" Elsa squeaked, "I— _!"_

She looked up in blank shock.

"Why, you _sly dog!_ " Kristoff suddenly laughed, looking to Jack. Elsa and Anna turned to him as well, and it was then that Elsa realized Jack was blushing, staring determinately into his lap.

"What?" Elsa choked, "What is it? What's going on?"

"Oh, come _on,"_ Kristoff laughed. "You know—Jack Frost! Jack Frost's _fun magic?_ How he can breathe fun into, like, a snowball, and throw it in your face, and suddenly, you're having fun, too? He must have put it into that necklace. The _genius!_ "

Jack gulped, slowly looking up into Kristoff's eyes. Elsa felt her heart start pounding, beating painfully against the inside of her ribcage.

"Wait…" Kristoff's voice trailed off, seeing Jack's face turning a deeper shade of red. "You—you didn't— _tell_ her?"

Elsa abruptly stood from the table, shoving back her chair with a sickening screech. She looked to the necklace, and then to Jack, and then back to the necklace, her mouth hanging open in horror. He leapt onto his feet, his eyes pleading.

"Elsa," he stammered, "Please—I just thought it might help you stay calm today—with the suitors coming, and—"

"—You _jerk!"_ Anna gasped, "How _dare_ you!"

"I was only trying to help!" Jack begged desperately, _"I can explain!"_

"Explain what?" Kristoff snapped, "That you thought you'd _manipulate_ her into liking you, or—"

"—It's _NOT_ like that!"

Her heart pounding, Elsa looked down to the pendant. The beautiful snowflake caught the light again, gleaming tauntingly as it turned on its chain, reality crashing around her once again.

Her hands trembling, the young queen shakily pulled in a deep breath.

"P-please excuse me."

Fighting back the stinging in her eyes, Elsa shakily reached forward and dropped the necklace onto the table in front of him, shoving past her childhood hero in humiliation and fleeing from the room.


	16. Sixty Seconds

**CONTENT WARNING: Light violence, sexual/dark innuendo**

 **.**

 **16: SIXTY SECONDS**

Dumbfounded.

Jack stood, dumbfounded, by the table, his mouth hanging open in shock. What had he done wrong? It—b-but the—it was _working._ It had been _WORKING!_ She'd been so _happy!_ And now—

Ca- _CHUNK._

The door was opening behind him. Gasping, Jack snapped back into focus, leaping away from the table and whipping around as the last of her icy capelet whisked out of the room.

 _"_ _ELSA!"_ he yelled, grabbing his staff and running after her, " ** _WAIT!_** _I SWEAR I was only trying to_ - ** _OOF!"_**

Something suddenly slammed into his back, and Jack yelped as his body collapsed forward onto the ground, the staff flying from his hand and skittering across the floorboards. Gasping for breath and struggling to gather his senses, he tried to push himself up, only to have his cheek be slammed back down again into the wood.

Pinning him onto the floor, Kristoff leaned forward to Jack's ear.

"Not so fast there, _Frost,"_ he said icily, wrenching Jack's arms behind his back. "Anna? Get my scarf. And a chair."

"What are you— _URK!"_

Jack gagged as Elsa's brother-in-law yanked him back by his hood, pulling him up onto his knees. Holding Jack's wrists with one hand and his shoulder with the other, he then jerked the Youngest Guardian onto his feet, spinning him around and harshly pushing him forward across the room to where Anna was standing behind a pulled-out chair.

"B-b-but she was so _happy!"_ Jack sputtered, tripping as Kristoff spun him around, shoving him into the chair, "She—she was having so much _fun!"_

"Yeah, I'll bet you have that effect on a _lot_ of girls," Kristoff snarled, holding Jack's wrists down as Anna threw the wet scarf over his arms. "But you wanna know something? Mister _Fun Times?"_

Anna yanked the scarf tight, binding Jack to the chair and stepping away. Cowering into the seat, Jack's eyes widened as Elsa's brother-in-law let go of his arms, violently grabbing his shoulders and glaring into his eyes.

 _"_ _Not. In MY._ _ **FAMILY**_ _,"_ Kristoff gritted.

Jack's eyes widened as Kristoff shoved him back, the chair squeaking as it shifted on the floorboards.

"Kristoff?" Anna asked. "Can I—"

"Yeah," he nodded, not taking his eyes off of Jack. "Go make sure Elsa's okay. And take Sven with you. While I deal with this _crook_ here."

Jack's eyes narrowed. " _What_ did you call me?"

" _Hey!"_ Anna snapped.

Jack looked to her. She was standing by the door, holding the reindeer. Drawing herself up, she glared.

"What I said about marrying my sister," she stammered, "I—I take it back. I take it all back, you manipulative—you _jerk!"_

"Anna, I— _!"_

 _SLAM!_

Jack struggled against the scarf in frustration, dropping his head forward to look down to his lap. _Man_ , it was knotted tight.

The sound of Kristoff stomping across the room made him jolt, and he looked up. Jack gasped in horror as Elsa's brother-in-law stopped, bending down and picking up his staff.

" _Don't—!"_

"—Yeah, pretty nice _stick_ ya got here, _Frost_ ," Kristoff snapped, picking up the gnarled shepherd's crook and inspecting it. "Lot of _notches_ somewhere on this thing, right? Thought the _Snow Queen_ would make a nice little addition, huh?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Kristoff glared.

" _Oh_ …" he enunciated coldly, "I think you know _exactly_ what I'm talking about."

Jack's face went pale.

Before he could respond, Kristoff set his jaw, turning away with the staff in his hand. "Elsa's in my family. And if there's one thing that the rock trolls taught me, it's that family makes you who are," Kristoff called over his shoulder, determinately pacing across the room for the pile of wet clothes. "So, I don't care _who_ you are, Blizzard Boy. You mess with my family, you mess with me."

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on…"

Kristoff dropped the shepherd's crook behind the pile of clothes, and then crouched down, digging out an enormous coat and beginning to search through its pockets. Swallowing hard, Jack Frost leaned forward against the scarf, staring at him with disbelief.

"Are you trying to tell me, _"_ he squeaked, "That your _center—i_ s _family?"_

"Family is everything," Kristoff snapped, not turning around.

A look of horror swept over Jack's features.

" _Whose CENTER is_ _ **FAMILY?!"**_ he sputtered.

The Snow Queen's brother-in-law didn't respond, rummaging through the pockets while Jack's mind raced _. Family_. Of course it was _._ Meaning, that Elsa's brother-in-law was probably the most _brotherly_ Big Brother that she could possibly have. Which would make _Jack_ the—

Oh, no.

The realization falling onto him like an anvil, Jack frantically started squirming against the scarf, the chair squeaking and straining as it scooted forward across the wood.

 _I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead…_

Having found what he was looking for, Kristoff straightened up from the ground, and Jack froze, his pounding heart leaping into his throat. As the ice man turned around, walking back towards him across the room, Jack saw that there was—instead of an ice pick, or some other kind of expected weapon—something small in his hand.

Kristoff reached the table in front of Jack, whirling around to face it and slamming the object down onto its surface.

 _WHAM._

He turned back around.

"See this? _Frost?"_ Kristoff spat, gesturing to the glistening object as he leaned back against the table. "Know what it is?"

"Yeah," Jack said carefully. "It's an hourglass."

"Close. It's a _minute-_ glass," Kristoff glared, "And it will measure out _exactly_ sixty seconds, when I turn it over."

Jack looked down, squirming against the scarf. It was only then, with the colored light of sunrise dancing across the wooden floor, that he realized he was tied to a chair with its back up against the pane of an enormous floor-to-ceiling window.

He looked back up to Kristoff.

"Fascinating," Jack said. "What's your point?"

"That _you'd_ better start talking," Kristoff snapped, picking up the minute glass and gesturing to him with it, "Because _I'm_ the closest thing to a brother that Elsa has. So, sixty seconds is _exactly_ how much time that you've got to convince me _not_ to pick up that chair you're sitting in and throw it through the window."

Flipping it over, Kristoff slammed the minute-glass back down onto the table again.

 _WHAM._

Jack's heart leapt into his throat as the golden-colored grains of sand begin to fall, and he shook his head vigorously, sucking in his breath.

"Okay, the thing with the necklace," Jack stammered, "Yes. I put a little magic into it. But it wasn't supposed to be weird, or anything. I mean, it's the same stuff I use with kids—it's just _fun_. Not creepy. I had no _idea_ she'd react like that. I've never seen _anyone_ react to it like that—actually—it was sort of funny, when you think about it—"

Kristoff set his jaw, glaring into Jack's eyes. He then reached over to the minute-glass.

 _Shake shake shake shake shake._

Jack jumped, sucking in his breath again.

"And I'll admit that I've never tried putting it into a necklace before," he blurted, "I mean, maybe I overdid it—"

"—THIRTY SECONDS, FROST."

 _"I just didn't want her to be freaking out!"_ Jack cried desperately, "She has the first suitors coming today, and she didn't invite them, the Council did, because they're jerks, and I know that she was terrified! I gave her the necklace because I wanted to help her stay calm—"

 _"—TEN SECONDS!"_ Kristoff gritted, and he paced over to Jack, grabbing the back of the chair and leaning it onto its two back legs. Feeling the wood creaking beneath him, Jack cowered into the seat, squeezing his eyes shut as Kristoff threateningly pulled back his enormous fist.

"I GAVE ELSA THE STUPID NECKLACE BECAUSE SHE WAS SCARED AND I DIDN'T WANT HER TO BE SCARED BECAUSE I HATE IT WHEN SHE LOOKS SCARED _BECAUSE I LOVE HER, YOU MORON!"_ he screamed.

The last grain of sand fell into the bottom of the minute-glass.

Jack, still tied up and leaned back in the chair, winced, waiting for the blow. After a few moments, there was a long, creaking sound, and the chair fell forward again onto the floor with a thud.

Jack cautiously opened his eyes, gasping for breath, his chest rising up and down rapidly against the scarf. Kristoff slowly lowered his fist.

They sat in silence, staring at each other in disbelief. Jack watched as Kristoff then pulled in a long breath, snatching up the tiny hourglass and walking to the pile of wet clothes again.

" _Look,"_ Jack started, choosing his words carefully, "I know that the thing with the necklace looks _really bad._ Okay?" He then shook his head, taking in another breath. "But I was honestly just trying to help. She's been freaking out about this _suitor_ thing ever since she found out about it, and—well, I mean, why _wouldn't_ she?"

Kristoff said nothing, pulling up his jacket from the pile and beginning to brush off the melted beads of water from its outer weave. Jack strained against the scarf again.

"I really wasn't expecting her to have _that_ kind of reaction to it!" Jack begged, "I mean, no one's ever gone—well—loopy with it before! I swear the magic isn't like some kind of _drug_ , or anything. I just thought that it might help her to have a little _fun_ through this whole—mess."

Kristoff remained silent, slowly walking back over to the table and to Jack, pulling on the still-damp jacket over his stained shirt. Jack blew a chunk of white hair out of his face, leaning forward as far as he could, his eyes pleading again.

"I would— _never_ —mean to hurt Elsa," he choked. " _You have to believe me!"_

Kristoff looked back up into Jack's face.

"I do," he said quietly.

Jack closed his eyes, letting out his breath slowly as he leaned his head back onto the chair _._ He then suddenly felt the scarf loosen on his arms and lap, and snapped his head up to realize that Kristoff was untying him.

"You really _do_ love Elsa," Kristoff said quietly. "Don't you?"

"Well—you know," Jack laughed nervously, feeling the scarf fall off of his left arm, "As a friend."

Kristoff stepped away from the chair.

"A… _friend_ ," he repeated slowly.

"She's a girl with ice powers," Jack admitted.

Kristoff pulled the scarf off of Jack's body and began to wind it around his hand, a hint of a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.

"Seriously?" he drawled.

A look of confusion swept over Jack's face.

"She's a _girl,"_ he enunciated, trying again. "With. _ICE. POWERS."_

Kristoff grinned, visibly retraining from laughing.

"Not really all that picky, are you?" he chuckled.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Kristoff shrugged, turning and walking towards the table again, "I was just—kind of thinking you'd come up with adjectives, or something. You know—besides _female?_ Like, _sweet,_ or _smart,_ or _beautiful—"_

"—Well, _yeah!_ I mean, of _course_ she is!" Jack exclaimed, getting onto his feet as Kristoff placed the wrapped-up scarf on the table, "I—I think it's pretty clear that Elsa's all of that. Just— _obviously."_

"Oh, yes, _obviously."_

" _Seriously!"_ Jack protested, "I mean—she's sweet, and selfless, and she's trying to be a good queen, and she really _cares_ about her people, and she's got brains, and passion, and a _REALLY_ great bod—"

Kristoff jolted, and Jack abruptly cut himself off.

"Body—of _work_ ," he choked.

Kristoff crossed his arms over his chest.

"Uh- _huh,"_ he enunciated.

"Her—body of work. Like, the reforms and—stuff," Jack stammered, his mind racing in frantic desperation. "I find her—uh— _tax code_ —to be, uh, very inspiring."

Biting his lip, Jack swallowed hard, looking away from Kristoff's eyes.

 _Tax Code. Smooth,_ he thought to himself. _Idiot._

Kristoff uncrossed his arms, leaning back against the table.

"The _Spirit of Winter_ has read the redrafted Arendelle Tax Code," he repeated slowly.

Jack drew himself up. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes. But, _if you say so_ , Frost," Kristoff chuckled, pushing himself off from the table again. "I'm sure that Elsa will be thrilled to learn that there are now _two_ people on the face of the planet who have _actually read_ the entire piece."

"But it's simplified!"

"Yeah. She condensed a 488-page document into a 23-page document," he retorted. "But don't worry. It's still _incredibly_ boring."

"Well, _I_ liked it."

"Really."

"Well, I—um," Jack improvised, "I just—think it's really important—to simplify. You know, so it's understandable, and—stuff—and people need to know how the taxes work, or they, uh, don't feel like their money isn't helping the infrastructure, and—keeping things up—safety measures, and, you know, so that—"

"—Stop talking."

 _Oh, thank Manny._

Jack let out his breath, staring at the floor. Without looking up, he heard Elsa's brother-in-law take a step towards him, chuckling softly under his breath.

"Basically," Kristoff laughed, "You think she's hot."

Jack swallowed hard. After a few moments, kicking at the floor, a sheepish smile crept across his features.

"Yeah," he mumbled shyly.

Kristoff grinned, shaking his head and turning away to walk back to the table. As he picked up the wrapped scarf, tossing it to himself as he walked back to the pile of wet clothes, Jack leapt up onto his feet, running after him.

"It's not _weird_ , or anything. I _promise_ ," Jack insisted. "It's just—Elsa's the first girl I've ever met that's like me."

"Not that you're desperate."

" _What?_ Pfft! _No!_ " Jack retorted, "But even if I _was—_ oh, come on! _You_ try going for over three hundred years without—"

"—Wait, _how_ many years!?" Kristoff whipped around.

Jack Frost abruptly snapped his mouth shut, feeling blood rushing to his face.

"Maybe—a few," he choked.

Kristoff's eyes narrowed. After a few moments, he gave his head a little shake, turning back to the pile of clothes and crouching down to find his knapsack.

"I—I should add, though," Jack stammered, blushing furiously, " _Physically,_ I'm nineteen."

"Elsa's an adult. She can make her own choices," Kristoff sighed, pulling open the knapsack and placing the wet scarf inside. "Not to mention, I'm pretty sure she's twenty-one going on sixty. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that she'd have a thing for older guys."

" _Older?"_

"Right. _Ancient."_

"I'm not _ancient!"_ Jack protested, "I'm—just—sort of immortal-ish. You know," he added, "Like— _frozen_."

"Does Elsa know that?"

"Does she need to?"

Kristoff scoffed. "Well, to be totally honest," he said, rolling his eyes, "Given what just happened, I'm pretty sure that your age is the _last_ thing that Elsa's concerned about right now."

Jack's face fell.

"I really messed up," he choked. "Didn't I?"

"You think?"

Kristoff shook his head, sitting on the floor by the pile of clothes and pulling out a pair of thick boots. He began to strap them on, and Jack bit his lip.

"What do I do, then?" he asked. "You've known Elsa longer than I have."

Kristoff sighed, finishing with the first boot and starting on the next. "Well, you're just going to have to go and try to talk to her," he said. "And I can talk to Anna, too. If I can convince _her_ that you meant well, she can talk to Elsa, and then Elsa _might_ be less likely to sic a snow monster on you the next time she sees your face."

He got onto his feet, brushing himself off and turning back around. Catching sight of it laying on the floorboards, Jack began to reach for his staff, only to have Elsa's brother-in-law snatch it away.

 _"Hey!"_

"If you're going to try to apologize to Elsa for using magic on her without her permission," Kristoff said coldly, holding the staff out of Jack's reach as he leapt for it, "I suggest you do it _without more magic."_

 _"_ I've still got _magic,"_ Jack protested, "I just—like using the staff. That's all."

"Yeah, but this is a _glaring_ reminder."

Jack glanced down to his feet. Nodding reluctantly, he then ran his fingers through his hair, letting out another long sigh.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "You're probably right."

After a few more moments passed, Kristoff snorted.

Jack looked up. "What?"

Kristoff shook his head. "I cannot— _believe—_ that I'm giving relationship advice to _Jack Frost,"_ he chuckled. "Man, I've done a lot of crazy things in my life, but I did _not_ see _this_ one coming."

"Well," Jack laughed self-consciously, raising his eyebrows, "Who knew that you'd become the brother-in-law of a girl with ice powers?"

"Who knew that the _Spirit of Winter_ would be such a _complete moron?"_

Jack felt blood rushing to his face. Quickly hiding it, he scoffed. "What does that make _you,_ then?" Jack demanded, "Some kind of _love expert?"_

"No. But I have friends who are," Kristoff shrugged. "And as a general rule, I can tell you that women don't like it when you mess with their emotions. Or, in _your_ case," he enunciated coldly, " _Manipulate them_ _completely."_

" _Manipu—?_ No, no, no. That's not how my magic works," Jack exclaimed, "When I smack someone with—well, like, a snowball, with the _fun_ in it—all it does is absorb their fears for a few seconds. You know—social anxieties, deadlines, whatever's stopping them from having fun. Then, they're usually able to forget about the negative stuff for long enough to…"

Jack's voice trailed off. His face suddenly drained of color, and he stumbled backwards a few steps, throwing out his hand to catch himself and sinking into the side of the table. " _Ooooh_ ," he groaned. "I think— _oh_ , no. I think I know what happened…"

"What? What is it?"

"The _necklace_ ," Jack choked, kneading his eyebrows. "She—Elsa was wearing it _the whole time._ "

Kristoff's eyes widened. "Because the snowballs are only supposed to last for a couple seconds, right?"

"Right," Jack laughed bitterly. "So, when she kept it on the whole time, it was like she was getting hit with…a few _thousand_ of those snowballs."

Jack pulled his hand down to his mouth, slowly shaking his head and looking back up into Kristoff's eyes. For a few moments, the two said nothing, staring at each other in horror as the mutual realization fell over the room in silence.

As if on cue, Kristoff and Jack simultaneously burst out laughing, buckling over into hysterical, gasping snorts of horror as Jack's face turned beet red again.

" _MAN_ ," Kristoff exclaimed, shaking his head with a grin, "When Jack Frost makes a mess of things, he REALLY makes a mess of things, doesn't he?"

"I guess I do."

"You basically just _accidentally_ got Elsa drunk," he chuckled as Jack blushed even harder.

"Well, when you say it like _that!"_

Kristoff walked over to the table and stooped down, gingerly picking the necklace up off of the floor and tossing it to Jack. "This should _never_ fall into the wrong hands," he laughed, "I mean, at least for the sake of Arendelle, this is _Elsa_ we're talking about. Another ten minutes, and her _brain_ would have melted."

Jack bit his lip, sheepishly sliding his hands into his front pocket and nodding. The guy was right.

Elsa's brother-in-law took a step back, gesturing to the staff. "Should I hang onto this for you?" he asked. "Until you've figured out how to apologize to her?"

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea," Jack admitted, letting out a sigh, "But if something happens to it, you're dead."

"Sounds good." He walked over to the door, opening it. "Well…?"

Jack sucked in a deep breath. He began walking towards it, biting his lip. "Well… here goes," he said.

"Good luck."

"Thanks, man," he laughed, "And don't say tha—"

"— _You'll need it."_

 _"_ Ah _, there_ it is," Jack grumbled. "Couldn't _resist_ , could you?"

Shaking his head, Kristoff punched him softly in the arm. Jack swallowed hard, walking out into the hallway towards Elsa's bedroom.


	17. Elsa's Sacrifice

**AUTHOR'S NOTE ( _original,_ written August 2015): Despite the fact that nothing "actually happens," the reason that this is rated T is because there are going to be some rather suggestive themes and dialogue snippets coming up (not until the next chapter, but this chapter gets a bit intense in a different way). There will be no profanity or anything graphic, but I thought it was necessary to give you a fair warning: Things are about to get a bit darker. ALSO: Don't worry—things aren't going to stay dark for that long! I promise that things will be looking up again in the next few chapters!**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE (added June 2017,** _ **after**_ **Drafting Hiatus): Sooo... yeah, okay, I needed Elsa to trust Jack in order to move the story forward. So, buckle up... we're taking an emotional shortcut for the next few chapters, and things are going to get DARK, before getting light again. Despite the fact that nothing "actually happens," but there's a reason this fic is rated t. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo**

 **.**

 **17: ELSA'S SACRIFICE**

 _Knock knock._

"Elsa?"

Her heart leapt into her throat at the sound of his voice. Her stomach twisting, Elsa bit her lip, turning around from her dresser. Anna was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes expectant, as flurries of snow fell softly around them in the silence of the room.

 _Knock knock knock._

"Elsa, _please,"_ Jack begged through the door. "I _know_ you're in there."

Elsa looked to her sister pleadingly.

Anna sighed, standing up. As she walked to the door, Elsa quickly ran into her art gallery, whisking her capelet in after her and out of his view.

She heard the door into the hallway creak open, and then heard Anna's voice.

"She's busy," Anna snapped. "What do you want?"

"I want her to hear me out."

Elsa's heart started pounding, her breaths coming sharp and shallow as she struggled to stay calm. She could hear the pain in his voice.

Jack Frost's voice.

"I want to apologize. And explain," he choked, "I—I know that what happened just now looked bad—like, _really_ bad—"

"—Basically," Anna snapped, "You're upset you got caught."

"What? _No!_ I was just trying to help! And I figured out what happened—why she went loopy with it," he protested. "You have to believe me!"

"No, I don't. And _she_ doesn't, either."

"If you just let me talk to—"

 _"—_ _No!"_

"I'm not gonna shove a _pregnant_ lady," Jack's voice scoffed, "Look, can't I just—ELSA, I _KNOW_ THAT YOU CAN HEAR ME IN THERE!"

Elsa's breath caught, and she snapped her head up.

"Leave her _alone!_ " Anna's voice exclaimed. Elsa heard the door start to creak close, and a small amount of scuffle. " _She doesn't want to talk to you!"_

"Elsa, I would _never_ try to hurt you!" Jack cried, "I _swear!_ I just wanted you to be happy!"

"GO!" Anna's voice demanded, growing a little louder, "And take your creepy _love_ necklace with you!"

"It is NOT a—"

 _SLAM!_

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut. Leaning her head back against the wall of the art gallery, she swallowed hard, the sharp pang of humiliation stinging in her throat again. _Conceal!_ she thought desperately, _Conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't feel…_

Something cold was beginning to form in her right hand. Looking down, her eyes glassy, Elsa realized that she had, without meaning to, formed a tiny sculpture.

A tiny, blue shepherd's crook made of ice was resting in her palm.

"Elsa? I got rid of him—are you—" Anna's voice trailed off as she walked into the art gallery, seeing her sister. " _Elsa?"_

Anna stood in shock as Elsa, cradling the tiny shepherd's crook to her chest, sank down against the wall of the gallery and burst into tears.

.

.

And Jack waited.

Sitting on the floor outside of Elsa's bedroom door, he felt miserable. _Powerless_. More so than he had in a long time. Perhaps it was the strange feeling of not having his staff with him. Perhaps it was the fact that _he_ knew he'd never hurt Elsa, but— _she_ didn't.

More than likely, it was being unable to lift the crushing weight of knowing how much he'd hurt his sweet new friend. His—well.

His believer.

After an hour or so, Kristoff had come in search of Anna. Seeing Jack sitting on the floor alone, his face fell as their eyes met. He had asked Jack if he'd wanted his staff back, but Jack had declined. He still hadn't really gotten a chance to apologize properly. And Anna, as she had walked past him with her husband, afforded the Guardian of Fun nothing more than a cold glare before turning away and pacing down the hall.

After a few hours, a maid had come to the door, standing directly through Jack's body, to ask if the Queen would attending the mid-day meal. Elsa did not open the door. She _wasn't hungry_ , Elsa had told the maid. _But thank you_.

Fighting the pit in his stomach, neither was Jack.

.

.

 _BONG... BONG..._

Jack sat up abruptly from where he was leaned against the door, the chiming of the town square's clocktower bells reverberating through the hallway. Two o'clock. Elsa's first audience was at two thirty. Any moment now, she would be— _!_

Hearing the clicking of lock tumblers falling behind him, Jack scrambled to his feet, spinning around. The door slowly creaking open, his eyes bulged as Elsa stepped into the light.

His mouth falling open in shock, Jack suddenly found himself staring into the flashing eyes of a terrifyingly beautiful young woman, her piercing gaze locked into his with all the strength and ferocity of a winter storm. The sunlight catching the ice crystals in her dress as she regally drew herself up, Jack looked down to realize that Elsa's previously romantic pink sheath gown was now a dark, steely gray, richly adorned with chains of icicles. Her hair was pulled back and twisted into an elegant bun, and on top of her head, Jack realized that the Snow Queen was wearing a spiked, icy crown.

Jack stumbled back a step in shock. This was _not_ the timid, blushing girl that he had danced with the night before. This was Elsa, Cold and Powerful, Reigning Queen of Arendelle.

She sucked in her breath.

Jack snapped back into focus, giving his head a quick shake as Elsa bit her lip, walking forward past him and yanking her capelet into the hallway. Glancing back at the door for a fraction of a second, she flicked her hand through the air, and it swung shut with a slam.

The lock creaked as it froze behind her, and she drew herself up again, sweeping past him without a word. Jack jumped, whipping around as she began to walk away from him down the hall.

"Elsa, I know that I'm the last person in the world you want to see right now," Jack blurted, "But _please!_ You have to hear me out! I'm _sorry!_ "

Her back stiffened, and she ignored him, walking faster down the hallway. Jack followed.

"The thing with the magic," he said quickly, "I've never tried putting it into a necklace before—I didn't realize—well, I'm used to dealing with kids. And—and basically, I overdosed you, if that makes any sense. I _didn't mean to!"_

Reaching the end of the hallway, Elsa's face began to turn slightly pink. Pressing her lips together, she drew herself up, and began to descend down a long, regal flight of stairs, her dark capelet billowing out behind her across the rich carpet.

Jack shook his head, chasing after her, walking straight through the maids and servants going up the stairs on the other side from Elsa.

"I would _never_ have done that on purpose!" he stammered, "It's just—I _know_ you're scared of this. Of the suitor thing. And I _didn't want you to be scared!_ I _hate_ seeing you looking so scared! _Please!_ Just _listen to me!_ "

Reaching the end of the long flight of stairs, Elsa paced quickly across the smooth, shining floor of a long hallway lined with richly uniformed men. As she swept past, they all bowed in turn, but she hardly acknowledged them, struggling to hold her head high. Finally, at the end, she threw open an enormous set of doors, sweeping into a long room with an arched ceiling lined with rich carpets, tables, and chairs. Two men closed the doors behind her, and it was then that Jack realized, looking down to the end of the room, where they were.

This was the throne room.

The door finished closing. Jack pulled in a deep breath, his voice growing a bit louder.

 _"Well, FINE then!_ _Go ahead!"_ he gritted, "Pull up your hair, put on a crown, and pretend that you're not scared out of your mind right now." Jack ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at her with desperation. "I know I only just met you, but—I'm not an _idiot._ Okay? I _know_ I hurt you, and—I'm sorry!"

She said nothing, but climbed the two stairs leading up to her throne. Then, she swept around, gracefully sitting in the enormous chair.

Jack closed his eyes, then slowly opening them and trying one last time.

"Elsa," he stammered, "You're hurt, and you're scared, and it's _my. Fault._ Put up as many fronts as you want. You're _not fooling me."_

She closed her eyes, pressing her lips together again. Jack sighed.

" _Okay, see?_ _This_ _is it._ _This,"_ he choked, "Is why I gave you the stupid necklace. It _kills_ me to see you like this!"

"Jack…"

He looked up. Sitting regally on the throne with the capelet spread around her, Queen Elsa was a picture of powerful elegance. Every inch of her body was being held with perfect, royal control.

Except for her eyes.

"Jack," she said slowly, still avoiding his gaze. "You need to leave."

"And what's that going to solve?" he snapped. "Do you think we're just going to be able to wake up tomorrow, and act like this never happened? I _need_ to know that you're okay, Elsa."

"Jack, I mean that you need to _leave Arendelle."_

His breath caught.

"But—!"

He cut himself off again, giving his head a quick shake and pulling in his breath.

"But I just— _got_ here," Jack whimpered.

The Snow Queen said nothing, biting her lip and looking to the floor.

"Elsa, wha—what's _happened_ to you?" Jack shook. "Why are you shutting me out?"

She drew herself up, sitting tall in the throne and finally staring into his eyes, her own brimming with tears.

"Because I— _never—_ should have trusted you," she choked.

Jack stumbled back a step in shock, the words cutting into him like a knife. He then watched in horror as Elsa got to her feet, struggling to control her voice.

"I just want you to know," she said quickly, "Before I do this—that yesterday was one of the greatest days of my life. And you're still every bit as amazing as I believed you'd be. If I didn't have to protect Arendelle, I'd never stop."

" _Protect Arendelle?_ What are you—?" Jack stammered, "Wait—Elsa—"

"—I know that I've gotten distracted. In the last of couple days," she continued, "And I can't afford to be. I have responsibilities. I _wasn't_ born to have fun. I was born to _protect this kingdom_. And I must sacrifice everything to ensure its safety. Even if—even if it means that I can't ever see you again."

"Can't ever _see_ me again?" Jack scoffed, sweeping his hand to the side, "Of _course_ you're going to see me again! I mean, I'm going to be right—"

His voice trailed off as he looked up, noticing her expression. Swallowing hard, Elsa shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears.

Jack could practically feel his heart stop beating.

"Wait," he choked, "You—you aren't saying—"

"I'm _sorry_ ," Elsa whimpered.

Jack's eyes widened, and he gasped. _"_ _Elsa!_ _No!"_

She drew herself up, taking in a long breath, her voice shaking.

"I am Elsa, Reigning Queen of Arendelle," she shook, squeezing her eyes shut. "And there is _no such thing as Jack Frost."_

 _"ELSA!"_

Jack leapt forward as Elsa stepped off the platform. Clasping her hands in front of her as she fought back tears, she walked onto the carpet as Jack's body fell through her own and crashed into the stairs.


	18. Choices

**CONTENT WARNING: Sexually predatory discussion/behavior, _implied_ rape reference (note: from BAD characters only)**

 **.**

 **18: CHOICES**

A jolt of pain shot up Jack's side as he lay across the stairs, gasping for breath. It— _Elsa_ —it couldn't be. It just— _!_

Fighting the burning sensation in his ribcage and the pain in his chest, Jack pushed himself up, scrambling onto his feet.

"ELSA!" he screamed, running in front of her, _"PLEASE!_ ELSA, _DON'T_ ** _DO_** _THIS TO ME!"_

The icy wave of panic hit Jack's body as Elsa walked through him for the second time. He stumbled back a step, gripping his chest in pain as his heart turned to stone, sinking into his stomach and the nausea swept over him. His head spinning, he felt himself collapse forward onto his knees as the last of Elsa's billowing capelet rushed through his body.

 _"N-No,"_ Jack sputtered, "It— _please_ — _no!"_

 _You need to leave,_ Elsa's voice played in his mind. _You need to leave Arendelle._

His eyes stinging, fighting back tears of his own, Jack bit his lip, pushing himself up and struggling to his feet again. Then, with one final, painful look at the beautiful Snow Queen of Arendelle, he turned and ran from the room.

.

.

"Hey, were you able to talk to her?"

Jack said nothing, holding out his hand for the staff. A puzzled look swept over Kristoff's face as he handed it over, Jack snatching it away.

"Jack!" he exclaimed, "What's going on? And wh—are you _crying?"_

Jack bit his lip again, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away. "No," he lied, "And I'm going. Now."

 _"Where?_ What happened?"

"Away." Jack picked up his pace, walking down the long hallway from Kristoff even faster. Kristoff ran after him. "And it _doesn't matter!"_

"But _Elsa!"_ Kristoff exclaimed, "For Pete's sake, Frost, you _can't_ just run away! It was just a misundersta—"

"—SHE _DOESN'T BELIEVE IN ME ANYMORE_ , OKAY?"

Kristoff froze in his tracks. Jack spun around, his eyes swollen, glaring into Kristoff's face.

"She wanted me to leave," he stammered, "She said that she was getting _distracted._ That, basically, my being here meant that she wasn't taking good care of Arendelle. And then she stopped believing in me. She— _CHOSE—_ to stop believing in me!"

Kristoff's eyes went wide. " _Jack_ ," he breathed, "I'm so—"

 _"—She LITERALLY doesn't think I exist anymore, okay?"_ Jack said, his voice breaking, "And, hey, _why do I care_ , right? I got along JUST FINE for 300-something years, _alone!_ I guess I can _BE ALONE some more now!_ And so can _she_ , if she wants it so much!"

Kristoff was speechless as Jack scoffed, shaking his head and taking a step back.

" _Great_ meeting you," Jack finally stammered again, "Lovely—interrogation—and stuff. But I've really, _really_ got to leave now. North was wrong. I _can't_ have a friend. There _isn't_ anyone that could really understand me. I thought I might have a chance with Elsa, but—" He shook his head, cutting himself off. "Well—have a _nice life,_ Kristoff."

Jack then turned and leapt into the air, shooting down the hall and away from the bedrooms.

.

.

He had to get out.

Now.

Messily wiping his arm across his face, Jack Frost grit his teeth, blinking furiously as his vision went blurry. He was losing control. The snowing around him had stopped, the air frigidly encasing his body as he slipped through the open doorway, stomping forward through the bedroom and passing through a small group of men congregated in the center of its floor. Usually, he would have laughed, or at least have noticed their sudden shivers and exclamations of how cold it had suddenly become, but Jack hardly noticed, glancing around the room for a window, a balcony, an _anything_ , that led to the outside. Cold. Yeah, it felt cold. _Really_ cold. To believe in him, stay with him, dance with him, heck, even _kiss_ him, and then— _POW_. Like a punch to the soul. Given how cold he felt on the inside, for as far as Jack was concerned, the Snow Queen of Arendelle might as well have _actually_ frozen his heart.

What was left of it, anyway.

Seeing a long set of curtains across the room, Jack stomped forward towards them, setting his jaw. A balcony. A little balcony, in this guest room. A way to the outside, to the stormclouds, so he could be up and gone and one with the wind and sky, to fly away and pretend that this _blasted_ little kingdom had never existed…

Stepping carefully behind the curtain, his hands shaking as he angrily dropped the staff on the carpet beside him, Jack gave his head a quick shake, crouching down to figure out the lock. Shakily pulling in his breath, he blew into the keyhole of the balcony door, but instead of a finely-controlled, careful mist, there was a sharp creak, and he looked down to realize that the mechanism was now jammed, a messy, spiked clump of ice protruding out from the keyhole.

 _No!_

His hands trembling, Jack reached forward, frantically trying to brush away the ice, only to see more flurries materialize across it from under his fingertips, setting the jammed lock into place.

 _NO!_

 ** _"_** ** _AURGH!"_**

Jack slammed his hand onto the surface of the wood in frustration, uncontrolled, jagged shots of ice blasting over the door.

"Did you _hear_ that?" exclaimed a voice.

Jack froze.

"Why—yes! A thump!" another man's voice chimed in, "From—from over there! What do you think it was?"

"Well, go and _see,_ you fool!"

"Yes, your highness."

Jack's heart leapt into his throat, and he sharply sucked in his breath. Scrambling to his feet, he whipped around, pressing his body against the door behind the curtain.

 _YANK!_

The curtain was ripped back, and Jack winced, suddenly standing inches from a well-dressed man in his forties, staring into his eyes.

Silence.

" _Well?"_ demanded one of the men in the center of the room. "What is it?"

The man holding the curtain gazed blankly forward, staring through Jack's body to the door. After a few moments, he shrugged, looking back to the center of the room.

"It's nothing, sire."

Jack's breath caught.

 _Nothing._

He was: _nothing._

Still paralyzed against the door as the man turned back to him, staring straight through his body, Jack bit his lip, fighting back the stinging in his eyes.

"Your majesty?" the man said, "Look. Come look at this…"

Bending down and reaching through Jack's body, gingerly feeling the ice on the door behind him, Jack could feel the shadow of the man's arm stretching through his stomach. His eyes started stinging again, and he clenched his teeth together, bending down and snatching up the staff. He _felt_ like nothing. No—Jack felt like _less_ than nothing.

He felt invisible.

"It's— _ice!"_ the man exclaimed as Jack passed through his body, stomping away from the balcony doors. "Do you—do you think that—?"

"—I was assured by her Royal Council that the queen has been keeping her— _mutation—_ at bay," the older man said. "She shouldn't lose control."

 _Lose control,_ Jack thought. Yeah. Sure. _He'd_ lose control. Maybe even get _caught_ —it might feel better, anyway. But, then again, what _he_ felt didn't _matter_ , right? He was _nothing!_

 _There is no such thing as Jack Frost._

His eyes stinging again, reaching the door to the hallway, Jack furiously grabbed the knob.

"Well… we'll see soon enough," the oldest man shrugged, "My audience is first. And I specifically requested a _private_ one."

Jack stopped.

His hand still on the knob of the door, jagged trails of frost spiking out onto the brass from underneath his palm, he slowly turned around, staring at the brown-haired, older man in the center of the room.

 _MY audience?_

The man drew himself up, holding the newsprint in front of his face in the air and studying it. "You _really_ couldn't find any full-length portraits?" he sighed.

"N-No, sire," the attendant apologized. "I did try. I will do better next time."

"Ah, well," The man sighed. "It's a shame. But, I believe you. And I suppose I will be able to look her over _myself_ , soon enough."

"You are too kind, my king."

Jack carefully released the knob, turning around and looking to the little group of men in interest. This man—this _king—_ was one of Elsa's suitors.

Her first suitor.

His curiosity suddenly overtaking his pain, Jack readjusted his grip on the staff, walking slowly towards the men in wonder.

"Rather _bony_ little thing... isn't she?" the king mused, looking at the picture again. "Up top, at least. She'd need to put on some weight, before the wedding."

"That could be accomplished, sire—"

"—As it should be. And she shouldn't be allowed to have her hair _loose_ like that. In the front," he continued, "It doesn't look _regal._ And it isn't the fashion, at all. Also, I've heard she's quite pale. _Sickly_ -looking, almost; _most_ unattractive."

"Yes, your majesty."

" _Well_ ," Jack muttered under his breath. " _You're_ a real piece of work, aren't you?"

"I don't like it when women wear _makeup_ like this," the king went on. "I want to see her _face._ I _deserve_ to know what I'm buying."

"How right you are, sire."

"And her ears stick out too much," he whined, crinkling his nose as he eyed the newspaper, "But if she wore her hair like the women in _my_ kingdom, it would hide them better. As for the tilt of her…"

Yeah. He'd heard enough.

Shifting his fingers on the staff, Jack Frost scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning and walking for the door while trying to drown out the rambling voice of the man continuing in his condemning analysis of the young queen's portrait. What a loser. It might actually be kind of fun, to go and watch Elsa take down this moron…

Elsa.

The name sent him reeling again. After a few moments, biting down hard on his lip, Jack shook his head violently, gripping the staff harder and continuing to pace for the door.

"B-But sire," one of the attendants tried helplessly, "You must admit—despite the _unusual_ characteristics—she's rather pretty. For you, I mean?"

"Oh, I suppose," the king conceded. "She is pretty. Not— _beautiful,_ but—yes, pretty. In a _sickly_ kind of way…"

His attendants looked at each other, and he whipped the newsprint open with a _thwack_ as the paper began to go limp, eying the depiction of the young woman again.

"A _pretty_ little kingdom _,"_ the king muttered. "With a _pretty_ little queen..."

Jack started to reach for the door handle, tossing his staff into his other hand just as he heard the king drop his voice to a whisper.

"This one shouldn't be too hard to hold down," he chuckled darkly.

Jack jolted.

His throat tightening with shock, he whipped around, staring at the king in disbelief.

 _WHAT... did he just say?_

"These young, _female_ rulers think they're so powerful," the king continued, folding up the newsprint and shoving it to the attendant on his left. "That's why it's best to get these issues sorted out early on. Make sure that the little creatures _know_ who's _really_ ruling the kingdom."

The attendant nodded, brushing off the king's coat. "You are very clever, your majesty."

"And _wise_ , sire!" the other added.

The king smirked, nodding matter-of-factly. "How convenient it is," he chuckled, "That the most effective method of getting the message across is such a natural one. Is it time yet?"

"Yes, your majesty!"

"You look _dashing,_ your majesty."

"She'd be a fool to refuse, sire."

"She would indeed. I don't expect her to, but… Queen Elsa is young. Quite young," the king sighed, taking the gloves from his attendant's outstretched hand. "And from what I've read, it appears that the little _mutant_ of Arendelle doesn't seem to know her place. She might need to be—taught."

"You are a most _excellent_ teacher, your highness."

"Well, naturally I am, Wilhelm. And if I _do_ need to teach her respect—respect for _powerful_ men," the king enunciated, raising his eyebrows, "She will not be my first pupil."

The other attendant gasped. "Do you mean, that she might _not_ respect you?"

" _How_ could she not respect _you?"_

"You are so strikingly _powerful_ , your majesty!"

Jack's eyes narrowed as he watched the king puff himself up, nodding approvingly and beginning to pull on his gloves.

"Oh," the king said coolly, "She _will_ respect me."

He finished pulling on the glove, drawing himself up and inspecting one of his cufflinks.

"I will _teach_ her to respect me," he added darkly.

Jack's blood boiled as the attendants scrambled for the king's possessions, and he jumped, whipping his staff around and aiming it straight at the king's chest. His heart pounding, Jack's hands began to tremble as he slowly crept towards them, his jaw set in fury.

" _You,"_ Jack growled, glaring menacingly as his hands trembled with fury on the staff, "Will not be teaching Elsa _anything."_

"If there's one thing that I've learned in my life, it's that _women_ ," the king stated matter-of-factly, "Are like dogs _._ If they misbehave, you punish them. Have you my crown, Wilhelm?"

"Yes, sire!"

"And you know what we discussed," the king said. "My sources inform me that there are to be two guards, outside of the throne room. If I need to—leave an impression—"

"—We remember the discussion, sire. Two minutes?"

"Correct."

Jack lowered the staff slightly, an expression of confusion sweeping over his face.

What was _that_ supposed to mean?

The first attendant nodded, and the other took a step back, pausing for a moment in front of the dresser. Still preoccupied with the strange statement, Jack watched as the man then reached for the newspaper, gingerly holding it up to the light and eying the young woman's portrait. After a few moments, he drew in his breath.

"Do you think it's true?"

The king paused, looking back to the man with raised eyebrows.

"Do you—do you think it's true?" the attendant asked again, dropping his voice to a whisper. "What they say about her clothes? That the Snow Queen's clothes are made of— _ice?"_

Jack looked down to his feet as the king stepped forward and snatched up the newspaper, the painful reminder of Elsa's beauty sending him reeling again. Oh, yes. The Snow Queen's clothes _were_ made of ice.

Not that this moron would _appreciate_ that.

"Well… if they are," the king mused, eying the portrait, "And if it turns out that I _am_ called upon to teach the little _mutant_ a lesson…"

He looked up, raising his eyebrows at the attendant with a smirk.

"This will be even easier than I thought," the king muttered.

Jack's grip on the staff tightened, his fingers twitching involuntarily as he glared. Just as he started to aim the shepherd's crook, his hands trembling with fury, he suddenly heard North's voice, the echoing counsel of his mentor sucking him into a memory.

 _"_ _A-BUSE the power, LOSE the power, a-BUSE the power, LOSE the—aaaaurgh,"_ Jack had groaned a few months earlier, standing in the Workshop's head office, _"_ _NORTH. WHY are we doing this?!"_

 _"_ _Because you cannot afford to forget it, Jack."_

 _"_ _But I—"_

 _"—_ _You are a GUARDIAN now, Jack Frost,"_ North had said sternly. _"_ _Your power will only grow. We MUST make sure you can control it. Again."_

" _I'm not gonna to lose control."_

 _"_ _AGAIN, Jack."_

 _"_ _A-BUSE the power, LOSE the power, a-BUSE the power, LOSE the power…"_

And Jack was suddenly back in the suitor's room, his feet planted, glaring down the end of his staff straight at the king's heart.

"She's _really_ asking for it…" the king chuckled darkly. "Isn't she?"

Jack stood frozen in his place, paralyzed with anger as the king's attendants accompanied him to the other side of the room, one of them leaping forward to get the door for his employer. It was pulled back, and before Jack had the time to respond, the men had passed through, the thick wood swinging shut behind them.

 _BOOM._

And they were gone.

Clenching his teeth and looking to the floor, Jack suddenly realized that he was gripping his shepherd's crook so hard that his knuckles had gone white.

 _He's not worth it!_ He thought at himself desperately.

The entire staff was glowing, the strange blue light of its power eerily shining around him as he gripped it with all his strength, feeling the magic within the gnarled shepherd's crook pulsing under his fingers.

 _Not. Worth it._

Jack Frost let out his breath, shakily lowering the staff and glaring up at the door where the suitor had disappeared. What a loser. Who did this idiot _think he was_ , anyway? This guy was a— _jerk_. A _JERK, through and through,_ that did _not_ deserve someone as incredible as Elsa. Even the thought made Jack's blood boil. But, she'd would _never_ fall for someone like him. And she was perfectly capable of fending off any attack on her power that the moron could devise. At _least_ , Jack thought, there was _that._ Elsa could take care of herself.

The Snow Queen's heart of ice would protect her.

Pulling in his breath, he forced himself to turn around to go back to the balcony, his hands still trembling with fury. He needed to calm down. To get a grip, get out, and get _away,_ from Elsa, and from him, and Arendelle, and all the blasted, stupid memories associated with it. _But_ —

He glared back at the door.

 _Yeah. Elsa will marry you_ , he thought sarcastically. _And North will relocate to the tropics. Scumbag_ …

Jack grabbed the curtain, violently yanking it back and crouching down by the lock to see with relief that his formerly uncontrolled ice had almost completely melted from the warmth of the room. His eyes narrowed with concentration, he bent down, gently blowing a new ice key into the keyhole. Straightening it up, he took it, turning it until he heard the faint, familiar old _click_ of tumblers falling. After so many years of busting into places, Jack _knew_ that sound. Blow into the keyhole, tap the ice, twist, click, and done. Locks were easy. Locks made _sense._

Locks couldn't betray you.

His eyes started stinging again, he gave his head a quick shake and pulled back the tall glass door, turning and taking one last glance back into the Snow Queen's castle. Seeing King Edvin's crumpled newspaper lying on the dresser, Jack's jaw tightened, the fury rising up inside of him again. That scumbag shouldn't be left alone with a girl for two _seconds._ Let _alone_ two minutes…

Jack froze.

Two minutes.

A wave of nausea swept over him, the bitter taste of the realization in his mouth. The comment _._ The jerk said needed about two minutes _. But_ —b-but he didn't actually _mean—_ he wasn't _PLANNING_ on— _!_

The realization falling onto him, he slowly looked up, turning back to the door through which the king and his attendants had disappeared.

What could happen—in two minutes?

Jack's heart started pounding, and he spun around to the balcony, seeing the sky outside the glass, clouds gray and beckoning. Biting his lip, he then turned, looking back towards the door where the men had disappeared and anxiously sliding his fingers into his hair.

Elsa didn't want him back. She'd thrown him out. And he was leaving. He _had_ to leave. He was going to turn around, and walk outside, and leave, _now_. _Right_ now. Not another— _!_

Ripping his fingers out of his hair with a yell of frustration, Jack stumbled backwards into the room, turning and leaping into the air to take off after them.


	19. The First Suitor

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Dark dark dark dark DARK. But hold on, it'll get lighter again soon!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: King Edvin is a sexual predator. Proceed with caution.**

 **.**

 **19: THE FIRST SUITOR**

"King Edvin of Hordalunde is a widower, mourning the recent death of his second wife," Rolf was saying. "She died in childbirth two months ago. He is 44 years old, and was originally a prince from further into the mainland. It should interest you to know that his last two marriages have been to ruling young women, as well. Very strategic and wise. The kingdoms all benefitted from the mutual bond. Because of this, we felt that he would be an _extremely_ good prospect for Arendelle."

But Elsa was hardly listening, turned away from him in the throne room and struggling to control herself. The pit in her stomach was not going away, but was instead growing, with fear. That _look_ on Jack's face…

 _He doesn't exist,_ she told herself, biting down hard on her lip. _It was all—it was all a dream. A very pleasant, and very fleeting, dream._

In her peripheral vision, Elsa suddenly realized that the air above her was sparkling. Looking up, her eyes widened with horror as she realized that the sparkling was the glistening of dozens and dozens of snow flurries, beginning to materialize all around the place where she was standing.

 _Conceal!_ she thought desperately, _Conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't fee—_

 _"Queen Elsa!"_

She abruptly spun around, her eyes snapping back into focus. Rolf was sitting in the chair, holding open the file and looking at her expectantly.

"Um—yes," Elsa stammered, "I'm sorry—could you—?"

He drew himself up, raising his eyebrows. "I _said_ that King Edvin has specifically requested a _private_ audience with you," he stated emotionlessly, "But we need your consent before such an audience is permitted. Is that alright?"

"Oh. Yes. Fine," Elsa said.

She had done the _right thing_ , Elsa told herself desperately, cutting herself off from Jack. Arendelle needed her full focus, and despite the fact that she knew the fiasco with the necklace was a complete accident, she was well aware of its implications. She'd allowed herself to become silly— _distracted_. And happiness was simply not part of the deal, when it came to ruling a kingdom. Jack Frost was simply a crazy, beautiful dream she'd had. And, if she was going to honor her responsibilities, that was all he could _ever_ be to her.

 _He's a myth,_ she thought determinately. _He's a myth, he's a myth, he's a myth. I must believe he's a myth. For the good of Arendelle…_

"QUEEN ELSA!"

She jolted out of the stupor again, to find Rolf standing from his seat, holding the papers. He cleared his throat, starting again.

"Queen Elsa, are you ready for him to come in?"

Elsa's stomach twisted.

Trying to hide it, she drew herself up regally, clasping her hands in front of her skirt. "I suppose I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she shook.

Rolf nodded and reached into his bag, pulling out a piece of fabric. Elsa watched as it fell open, her breath catching as she realized what it was.

Her head Councilman was holding a pair of gloves.

"Wha— _wait_ ," Elsa stammered, "Those—you aren't saying— _!_ "

Her voice trailed off, and Rolf raised his eyebrows. Then, visibly restraining from rolling his eyes, he started again.

"Like I was _saying before_ ," he enunciated condescendingly, "If you feel threatened, Queen Elsa, you _cannot use your powers_ on this man. Under _any_ circumstances."

"But what if—"

"—Then you may call the guards. We were _very_ lucky with Weaseltown's understanding," he continued, slightly louder, "When there _wasn't_ a war. We lost a great amount of money when you _jumped_ to cutting off trade with them, however, and we cannot afford to have that happen again."

Elsa's heart froze. "B-But," she choked, "Trade has since _increased_ by almost three hundred percent! I—we made up for it!"

"The Council thought the gloves might help," he said again, holding them out.

Fighting back the pit in her stomach, Elsa felt a cold rush of dark memories rush over her as her eyes fell onto the thicken, woolen gloves in his hand. But there was no time to argue now. Not with the suitor right outside the door.

She watched herself hesitantly reach forward and take them.

"A very wise decision, my queen," Rolf said slowly.

Elsa shakily pulled the gloves on as the door opened. Rolf cleared his throat.

" _King Edvin of Hordalunde,"_ he announced.

Elsa drew herself up, pressing her lips together as a richly attired middle-aged man strode confidently into the room. He was wearing an army uniform, covered in medals, his lapels fresh, pressed, and perfect, like the sculpted wave in his slightly-thinning gray-brown hair. On top of his head was a heavy crown, encrusted with jewels. Even Elsa's _original_ tiara hadn't been so ostentatious.

The young queen suddenly felt her legs turning to jelly.

Hiding it, Elsa quickly curtsied as he bowed, forcing a smile as the enormous doors closed with a heavy _thump._

" _Queen Elsa,"_ the king began, getting up, "If I may say so, it appears that the rumors of your exquisite beauty are true… although they have not done you justice."

Elsa swallowed hard, fighting the blood rushing to her face. "Thank you," she said emotionlessly, drawing herself up.

He took a step forward, reaching for Elsa's gloved hand. She froze as he took it, bringing it to his lips.

"Your face is like that of an _angel's,"_ he murmured, "If I could only—"

"—You have expressed interest in forming a political alliance," Elsa interrupted.

The king paused, raising his eyebrows slightly. Then, he straightened up again, releasing her hand with a hint of an approving smile on the edge of his lips.

"Ah, yes. Right to the point, then," he said, "I am glad that you have a firm grasp on reality, my Queen. Such— _pleasantries_ —can wait, I suppose. In light of weightier matters."

"Indeed they can." Elsa gestured to two large chairs on the side of the room. "Would you care to sit down?"

"I prefer to stand." He drew himself up, puffing out his chest slightly as he gazed down his nose at her. "One should _always be on one's feet_ , m'lady. Always ready to _strike!"_

 _"Strike?"_ she asked in confusion, "Whatever do you mean, _strike?_ Strike against what?"

"Attacks! Attacks from _enemies!"_ he proclaimed, " _Outsiders!_ Threats against the kingdom!"

Elsa arched an eyebrow, sizing up the man. Ah.

One of _those._

"I'm sure that I don't know what you mean," the young queen responded, relaxing slightly as she felt herself settling into Automatic Political Debate Mode. "Arendelle has indeed had a few unusual attacks in its history, but our military was perfectly capable of protecting the kingdom without— _striking_ against anyone."

He said nothing for a moment, looking down to his feet and chuckling to himself. Shaking his head, Elsa watched as King Edvin placed his hand on the hilt of the sword sheathed at his side, beginning to drum his fingers on it.

"It appears that you are not familiar with warfare," he stated, drumming his fingers on the sword. "But, I suppose it shouldn't surprise me. The art of war is really more of a _masculine_ pursuit."

" _Bloodshed_ , a masculine pursuit?" Elsa laughed bitterly. "As if _all men_ value violence over diplomacy? I'm sure that I have more faith in the male gender than _that!"_

King Edvin paused, opening his mouth to say something, and then closing it again. Raising his eyebrows, he looked at the young queen in amusement.

"Your naivete is _showing_ , my queen," he chuckled. "Quite the _motherly_ little type, aren't you?"

Elsa jolted.

As the young queen's mouth hung open in shock at the comment, her eyes bulging, the king smirked, smugly rocking back onto his heels. The muscles in Elsa's back tightened with indignation, she glanced upwards to realize that snowflakes were beginning to materialize out of the air over her once again.

She closed her eyes.

"If valuing the lives and well-being of my subjects makes me _motherly,_ then _yes_ ," Queen Elsa enunciated, measuring her words carefully as she looked back at the suitor, "I _suppose I am."_

She drew in her breath, staring down the man with the iciest, most threatening Royal Glare she could muster. He shrugged, giving his head a little shake as she turned away from him, walking to the nearest chair.

"So… _King Edvin_ ," Elsa started again, her lip curling as she said his name. "Do tell me. What, exactly, _does_ Hordalunde have to offer Arendelle?"

Her blood boiling, she gracefully swept into the chair, her long capelet whisking past her feet as she sat down and crossed her right leg over her left. The long slit in her skirt fell open over her knee, and the king glanced downwards, his eyebrows lifting as he eyed the young queen's now-exposed bit of skin.

Elsa was too angry to notice.

" _Well_ ," King Edvin started smugly, glancing back down to her legs again before beginning to pace back and forth across the carpet in front of her, "For one thing, our kingdom's size greatly exceeds that of your own. We have incredible trade, and our agriculture is the envy of many other kingdoms. And then, there's our military, as I just mentioned. _Also_ much greater than yours, as evident in the—"

"—I must warn you that that isn't necessarily _true_ ," Elsa interjected. "Our trade is currently the third-greatest in all the surrounding kingdoms, and as for our military, I can build dozens of snow monsters in seconds as guards for a defensive front. It would be very difficult to get through our lines, and Arendelle's outer walls would be _well_ fortified long before any soldiers' lives were taken."

"Is that a challenge?" King Edvin countered, spinning around as grasping the hilt of his sword. "If it is, Hordalunde will _gladly_ oblige!"

"With _all due respect,_ King Edvin," Elsa sputtered, _"_ Once again, we are discussing _WAR!_ I would _never_ joke about such things, and _surely,_ you— _"_

"—Politics _is_ war!" he scoffed, cutting her off, "In this day and age, one must attack before _being_ attacked, which—"

"—Which is _exactly_ why _Arendelle_ ," Queen Elsa gritted, rising from the chair as her voice grew louder, "For as long as it is under _my_ rule, will _only engage_ in battle if it's _DEFENSIVE_ _!_ War is to be avoided at _all costs,_ and frankly, good sir, I am _horrified_ that you would have the audacity to discuss senseless violence so casually!"

"But—"

"And I _assure_ you," Elsa continued, her fists clenching in the gloves, "With the credibility I have _to speak for them_ as _their rightful queen_ , the people of Arendelle have _NO_ INTEREST IN WAGING A _POINTLESS WAR WITH HORDALUNDE!"_

Her chest heaving as she gasped for breath, the Queen Elsa was now on her feet, her entire body trembling with fury as she glared into his eyes. The king stared at her in disbelief, his mouth hanging open in shock.

Holding her ground, Elsa winced as the king gathered his senses, slowly turning around to face her as his eyes narrowed with anger.

"Then be more _careful_ when you _speak,"_ he enunciated.

Elsa's eyes widened.

"Ex _cuse_ me?" she breathed.

He looked condescendingly into her face as Elsa felt her fingers tingling within the gloves.

 _Conceal!_ She thought desperately.

"You are very _beautiful,_ Queen Elsa, _"_ he said carefully, "And you are also very _young._ I am aware that, in making you this offer of marriage, I am doing so less as a suitor, and more as a teacher _._ I know that I could help you learn how to rule Arendelle, despite your age, and—" He paused, glancing down at her dress, "Well— _femininity."_

Elsa felt blood rushing to her face. The pit in her stomach returned, and she fought it, drawing herself up. "With all due respect, King Edvin," she replied icily, "I believe that I have been ruling this kingdom _perfectly well_ as it is."

The man chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, yes, I'm _certain_ you've been doing your _best,"_ he laughed, "But, that is what you would think. Our marriage would be mutually beneficial."

Her eyes narrowed. " _How_ is that, exactly?"

"I could better protect and rule Arendelle, with you," he said knowingly, "And when you needed help, I would be right there by your side to teach you, and to fix things when you—made mistakes."

Elsa felt her teeth clench together in fury.

 _CONCEAL!_

"And for _me,_ of course," he continued, taking her gloved hand in his own and looking longingly into her eyes, "There would be your— _lovely_ —companionship."

He knelt down onto one knee before Elsa on the carpet. She froze, paralyzed with horror as he felt her hand and continued.

"My bed has gotten so _cold_ at nights," he said dramatically, "And I have felt, after all this time, that this hole in my heart can only be filled by the companionship of a fair young woman such as yourself. It would do me a great— _honor—_ and delight to have such a _youthful_ spirit like yours to brighten the halls of my castle once again. Far and wide, I have searched for a beauty such as—"

Elsa suddenly withdrew her hand. He abruptly stopped talking, snapping his head up in shock.

"I was so sorry to hear of the recent passing of your _wife,"_ she enunciated, stepping back and glaring into his eyes with disgust. "You must be devastated."

For a long, painful moment, King Edvin froze, gazing into her face with disbelief. From her icy expression, the young queen's message was clear.

 _Not. Interested._

His face flushed.

Standing up, King Edvin brushed himself off, clearing his throat and straightening his jacket.

"So," he said carefully, "You are— _rejecting—_ my generous offer?"

"I'm afraid so."

He set his jaw, his eyes narrowing. Elsa gestured to the door and began to walk towards it, her capelet billowing behind her as he followed.

"Queen Elsa," he stammered, "I— _surely,_ you see what you are _losing,_ when—"

"—Thank you for your consideration," Elsa snapped, not looking back to him, "But I believe that this audience is _finished."_

They finally reached the large, wooden doors at the end of the room. The king began to reach for the handle, and then stopped, staring at it.

"So," he said slowly, "I came all this way _—three hundred and seventy miles_ —for nothing, then."

"I'm sorry that you're disappointed," Elsa replied coldly.

Just before he took the handle, Elsa watched as the man paused again. He then absent-mindedly kicked the door.

" _Actually_ …" King Edvin muttered, slowly turning back to her. "I _didn't_ come three hundred and seventy miles for nothing."

He drew himself up and began to walk towards her again, a strange, terrifying glint in his eyes as he approached. Her eyes widening, Elsa stumbled back a step, staring at him in confusion as a loud commotion started up from outside the doors.

King Edvin raised his eyebrows tauntingly, and took another step towards her, as if daring her to hold her ground. Elsa's heart leapt into her throat as she stumbled back from him. What was he _doing?_ Why—why was he— _!_

"What are you _talking_ about? What are— _stop it!"_ Elsa stammered, "Don't—don't come any closer to me!"

She threateningly reached for one of her gloves, ready to pull it off.

He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. " _Oh_ , Queen Elsa," he murmured, ignoring her as he took another step forward, "Use your _powers_ on me? With my kingdom's military might? Now, we _both_ know that that would be a _very_ bad idea… wouldn't it?"

Elsa, taking another step back away from him, bumped into a chair. She quickly righted herself, strategically darting behind it. "My people would stand behind me," she shook, "Stay— _away!"_

"Your _people?_ " he scoffed, raising his eyebrows as he sidestepped the chair, "It's your word against mine! And _my_ people, I _promise_ you, remember the effects of the Snow Queen's _last_ little emotional outburst. How do you think they would respond if they found out she _attacked their king?_ For all that talk of yours _,_ do you really want to start a _war,_ Queen Elsa?"

Elsa's breath caught.

He _would_ use her as an excuse to go to war.

As he took another step forward, hardly two feet away from her, she stumbled another step back, leaving the chair. Suddenly realizing that she was almost completely backed into the wall, Elsa's heart started pounding, her blood running cold with the realization.

He was trying to corner her.

"I'll—I'll _call the guards!"_ Elsa threatened, her voice growing louder as she inched towards one of the chairs, "Get _back!_ "

"You guards are—otherwise engaged," he informed her smugly, cutting her off. "I arranged it so that everything that happens in here in the next minute or so can be—well, it can be our _little secret."_

"How _dare_ you!" Elsa gasped.

"I'm a _king_ ," he chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "I _must_ be daring."

"Why, YOU—"

 _"—_ And who are _YOU_ , young lady," he interrupted, slightly louder, "To expect that I would _permit_ you to show such _blatant_ disrespect for my position?"

" _Disrespect?!"_ Elsa sputtered, _"I AM THE QUEEN!"_

"And _I_ am a _KING."_

Now almost completely backed up against the wall, trapped between an end table and the mantle of the throne room's fireplace, Elsa's mind raced, her eyes flickering to the doors. There was a small space, beside the king, leading to the open part of the room. If she could just bolt past him, she could probably…

 _"I_ gave you my time, in traveling so far to offer you this chance in person," he said sternly, making her jump, "Even as you _are_ foolish enough to refuse it, you are still _obligated_ to give me something in return."

"I'm not obligated to give you _anything!"_ Elsa felt her heart start pounding even harder, her eyes wide. Shaking her head vigorously, she took another step back. "Wha—what do you want?"

"Oh, not much of anything at all," he said carefully, "Just a— _pleasant_ —memory—to take home with me."

"What are you saying?"

She felt a wave of fear run through her body as he glanced down, his eyes lingering on the neckline of her dress. He then looked back up into her gaze, taking a step towards her.

"That dress you're wearing," he said slowly. "It's made of ice…"

"Yes," Elsa shook, taking another step back, "What about it? Get away from me!"

He ignored her, stepping towards her again. "Does that mean," he breathed, raising his eyebrows, "That it will _melt_ off of you—under the warmth of a man's touch?"

" _DON'T TOUCH ME!"_

The king suddenly leapt forward, catching Elsa's arm and yanking her towards him as she dove for the space beside him. "GUARDS!" she shrieked, struggling desperately to wrench it out of his grip as he jerked her back, " _GUAAAARDS!"_

 _CLONK._

All of a sudden, the man's eyes went glassy. Elsa watched in shock as his body went limp and crumpled onto the ground at her feet, releasing her arm. Jumping a step back, she then looked up.

A large, glass vase was floating independently in the air.

Elsa's breath caught. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head vigorously, and then opened them again.

Jack Frost, holding up the enormous vase, was standing directly behind the man's body, his eyes narrowed with fury. Noticing her staring at him, Jack set his jaw, blushing furiously.

"Yeah, I know," he gritted, looking up into her eyes, "You told me to leave, and I was going to, but—well, that—that _scumbag—!"_

"J-Jack?" Elsa quavered.

He shook his head, putting down the vase and snatching up his staff again. "So, I hope you're not expecting me to apologize," he said quickly, turning to leave, "Because I'm _not_ going to."

" _Jack!"_

Elsa leapt over the man's limp body, running forward and embracing Jack as he started to walk away. He froze, looking down to her in shock. His body stiffened for a moment, but then he gingerly put his own arms around her as well, pulling her closer as she gasped for breath, burying her face in his chest. As she squeezed him, the ice crown slipped off her hair, falling shattering on the wood floor.

"Elsa," he stammered, "I—your crown—"

"—It doesn't matter," Elsa choked. "I—I don't need it. Not with you."

As Jack's eyes widened, she then pulled herself up, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.


	20. Child of Snow

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Phew! Out of the dark part-at least for a while (MWA HA HA HAAA). Seriously, though, I have a favor to ask of everyone. A few days ago, the traffic counter thingy on which I can see the numbers of views, etc., broke! This is another way of saying that I currently have (literally) NO WAY of gauging audience response, except for reviews. Here's my request: If you're enjoying this fanfic at ALL, please oh please oh PLEASE let me know, through reviews or PMing me.** _ **If people are reading it, it's worth my time to keep writing it-and I certainly hope that people are reading it, because I'm having a lot of fun!**_ **I'm fully aware that this desperate request for feedback will probably expose me to some trolling, but hey, welcome to the internet. I LOVE YOU ALL, and have a fantabulous day!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo. In a funny way. HUZZAH.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **20: CHILD OF SNOW**

After a few moments, Elsa broke away from the kiss, and Jack stumbled back a step, his head spinning as he gasped for breath.

" _DANG IT,_ Elsa!" he sputtered, " _What IS_ it with _you_ and the _KISSING?!"_

"I—I'm s-sorry," she choked, "I—"

 _"—_ _I'M SO CONFUSED!"_ he wailed, "Forty-five minutes ago, you were kicking me out of Arendelle, and now you're all like, _hey_ , actually _, LET'S MAKE OUT!_ Is this just how you _respond to emotion_ , or something?!"

"In my defense," Elsa stammered, her cheeks flushing a deeper and deeper shade of red, "I've never had emotions like this before."

"Well, _THAT_ makes two of us!"

Jack shook his head, running his fingers through his hair as he leaned into the staff, gasping for breath. Anxiously twisting her spike heel into the carpet, Elsa pulled in a long, shaky breath.

"So… um," she whispered, nervously fidgeting with her fingers as Jack looked up. "Do you wanna make out?"

"Yeah, okay."

Jack's heart skipped a beat as they leapt into each other's arms, hardly having the chance to gasp for a quick breath of air before he and the young queen were suddenly kissing again. Hardly knowing what to do with his hands, Jack found himself wrapping them around her waist, feeling the icy chill of her dress beneath his fingertips as he pulled the Ice Powers Girl's body up against his own.

And it didn't go through.

His heart swelled. His face flushing with relief, Jack closed his eyes, frantically trying to memorize the moment, the _exact_ sensation of what she felt like, as he pulled her tighter.

Breaking for the second time, Elsa leaned away from him, her hands still clasped behind his neck as they stared into each other's eyes. Smiling sheepishly, Jack ran his thumb over the ice-cloth, practically feeling the three hundred years beginning to fade away as the Ice Powers Girl pulled in her breath.

"I—I _can't believe in you!_ " Elsa blurted suddenly, shattering the moment and yanking Jack back into focus as she pulled back away from him, "I was supposed to be cutting myself off! For _Arendelle!"_

" _MOTHER of NORTH,_ Elsa!" Jack groaned, "For the _number of times_ that I've been interrogated in the last two days, will somebody please, PLEASE explain to me how _I_ am a threat to Arendelle," he said, gesturing to the unconscious man on the floor, "And _HE_ is _NOT!_?"

Elsa, suddenly remembering the man on the floor, gasped. " _Oh, no!"_

" _What?_ What have I messed up _now?"_

"You—you haven't messed up _anything,"_ Elsa stammered, "I mean— _him!_ They're going to think I used my _powers_ on him! What do I _do?_ "

"It's not like he didn't _deserve_ it—"

"—You _really_ don't understand politics, do you?" Elsa moaned, "How can I _possibly_ explain this? There will be a WAR if anyone finds out! I can't just wake him up and be like, _oh, sorry, Jack Frost just dropped a vase on your head—"_

"—In my defense," Jack muttered, spinning the staff on the ground, "I didn't drop it on his head. I _intentionally swung it_ into his thick, Neanderthal skull."

"That's not better."

"It _felt_ better."

Elsa looked back into his eyes, her own wide with fear. Seeing it, Jack felt his stomach twist.

"Um… okay," he started, "Let's see… so… you can't pretend that he just fainted, because he definitely felt something hit him."

Elsa nodded. "And I can't say that I was defending myself because he'll deny attacking me."

"And he's not old enough to pull the _he just fell_ defense—"

"—And I can't blame it on something falling, because poor architecture design would be just as much of a scandal."

"Or—waitwaitwaitwaitWAIT. _Got it!"_ Jack exclaimed, " _Idea!"_

" _What?_ What is it?"

"A _scapegoat!"_ Jack whipped around to face her again, gesturing with his staff. "What _we_ need: is a _scapegoat."_

"Someone to take the blame?" Elsa quavered, "But—b-but there was no one else _here!_ I mean—no one—he could see?"

" _Exactly!"_

"Wait, _what?"_

Jack threw down his staff, leaping forward and picking up Elsa's gloved hands. "There was no one else—King Scumbag could _see,"_ he whispered excitedly, "See? _That's it!_ There was _someone else in the room,_ that he _didn't see."_

"But they don't believe in—"

"—I'm not _talking_ about me," he scoffed, "I'm talking about your _alibi._ While King Creepo was being creepy, somebody _else_ came in, saw what was happening, and WHACK. Like—somebody that really loves you, and could have slipped in unnoticed, but—"

Jack's face fell as he realized the flaw in his own plan, his voice trailing off.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "Never mind. That's not going to work."

"Why not?"

"It's like—it's like you need a _kid,_ or something," Jack groaned, "You know—someone small enough to sneak in unnoticed— _dumb_ enough to attack a royal—and somehow _also_ lovable, and blasted _innocent_ enough that everyone would forgive them."

"Small, dumb, lovable, and innocent?" Elsa repeated, her eyebrows lifting.

"Yeah. Oh—and, don't forget," Jack laughed bitterly, walking back over to his staff and easing his toes underneath it, "They'd have to be master of _breaking into locked rooms_ , too. So unless you've got some cute little kid with a _master key_ to the castle bumbling around somewhere, we've got to think up something else."

He scoffed, shaking his head and kicking his staff into his hands, then flipping it over and sitting on it in the air. Just as Jack was leaning forward to rest his chin on his fist in thought, he realized that Elsa was staring into space, clearly hit with inspiration herself.

"What?" Jack asked, "What is it? Have you got another plan?"

Elsa pulled in a long breath, closing her eyes. Then, folding her arms over her chest, she opened them, slowly shaking her head.

" _Actually_ …" she breathed. "I don't think we _need_ another one."

Jack looked up in confusion as Elsa, her arms still folded tightly across her chest, turned and walked back behind the thrones onto the platform. Then, pulling on a string, she opened a small hole-cover in the wall.

"Anna? Oh, thank _heaven_ you were in your room! I'm in the throne room," she whispered into the pipe. "I need you to find Olaf. Now. Send him here through the secret entrance. I'll explain later."

Drawing in her breath, Elsa closed the cover over the pipe. It blended perfectly into the wall behind it, and she looked back to Jack.

"These pipes were installed for the children of the royal family. And we have one adorably stupid scapegoat on his way," she sighed. "And in the meantime…"

She stumbled forward, shakily sitting down on the edge of the platform, about twenty feet behind the unconscious King Edvin. Watching Elsa bury her face in her hands again, Jack walked over and joined her, holding his staff as he sat down.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

Jack absent-mindedly spun his staff on the ground, watching the top of the shepherd's crook spinning in the air. Finally, he sighed, not looking at Elsa.

"Look," he said softly, "I know that you wanted me to leave. Okay? If you still want me to, I will."

" _Want_ you to leave?" Elsa breathed, starting to take down her hands from her face. She glanced to him, her face filled with shock. "What—what made you think that I _wanted_ you to leave, Jack?"

"How about the part where you said I didn't exist and walked straight through me?"

Elsa bit her lip, staring at the floor again in embarrassment. "There's a big difference between _wanting_ you to leave Arendelle and knowing that it was _best_ for you to leave Arendelle."

"Once again, could you please explain to me why I'm such a threat?"

Elsa sighed, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

"Jack…" she started slowly, staring determinately at the floor. "I'm a _queen_."

"REALLY? You don't say."

She closed her eyes, exhaling.

"Okay, okay," Jack mumbled. "Continue explanation."

She bit her lip. Then, Elsa took in a deep breath, starting again. "Well—you saw— _that_ ," she said quietly, gesturing to King Edvin's unconscious body. "That's the problem with having a throne—everybody wants it. I have to be extra cautious when I choose who my friends are."

"Well," Jack admitted, "To be completely honest, I'm sort of surprised how calm you are right now about what just happened."

"It hasn't really sunken in yet. I'm a little bit in shock, I think."

Jack grimaced. "Well, let's try to keep it that way until we can get rid of him, I guess."

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, folding her arms tighter, and nodded. A few more moments passed in silence.

Jack scooted an inch closer to her on the edge of the platform.

"You were saying about choosing your friends…?" he prompted softly.

"Ah. Yes," Elsa blurted, jumping back into focus. She shook her head slightly. "I have to be extra careful."

"But what have _I_ done that would make _me_ a threat?" Jack pressed, "I mean, the thing with the necklace—that was just stupid of me. But you can trust me, Elsa. I _swear."_

She looked up, staring into the air in front of her. Then, Elsa shook her head, laughing bitterly under her breath.

"Jack…" Elsa looked down into her lap again. "The reason that I think you're a threat is _because_ I feel like I can trust you."

A wave of confusion swept over him.

Jack scooted another inch closer to Elsa, and she looked up in his direction, noticing. But she didn't move away.

"So… uh," Jack started softly, gesturing to the man lying on the floor, "If _I'm_ a threat, then what's he?"

"Oh, he's _definitely_ a threat," Elsa stammered, "I—I _know_ I can't trust _him_."

Jack sat back onto the platform, stretching his legs out in front of him onto the carpet, contemplating the statement. He leaned forward again, kneading his eyebrows.

"So," Jack said slowly, " _I'm_ a threat because you've decided I _am_ trustworthy… and _he's_ a threat because he _isn't_."

"Um… right."

Burying her face in her hands, Jack bit his lip as he watched the edges of the young queen's ears turn pink in embarrassment. Then, laughing softly under his breath, Jack slapped his palm against his face.

"Suddenly, I'm understanding why you're sticking to the snowmen," he groaned, "Seeing as you just eliminated the _entire human race_ from your circle of potential friends."

"It's complicated, okay?" Elsa looked up slowly from her hands, shyly glancing to Jack. "I said that I wanted to be friends with you. I never said that I was _good_ at this whole friendship thing."

" _I'll_ say you're not."

The man on the floor groaned, beginning to stir. Elsa sucked in her breath, and Jack leapt to his feet, spinning around and kissing her hand.

"Would you please excuse me for a moment, ma'am?" he said, peering up at her through his eyelashes.

Standing up and silently walking over to the man, Jack picked up the vase from off the ground. After a moment of holding it up in the air, he then dropped it directly onto King Edvin's head.

 _CLONK._

With the man satisfyingly unconscious again, Jack then calmly walked back over to Elsa, spinning around on his heel and sitting down next to her on the platform.

"How on _earth_ is that vase not broken?" Elsa laughed breathily. "I need to track down whichever artisan made it and give them some sort of permanent job here."

"It's definitely good-quality glass," Jack agreed, "Clear… even… makes a very nice _cracking_ sound when hitting someone's skull…"

"Wow."

"I think I might start carrying that thing around, actually."

"Have fun with that."

The quiet fell over them once again.

"Well— _one_ thing's for certain," Jack laughed bitterly, kneading his eyebrows as she turned to look in his direction. "This is _not_ how I was thinking today was going to go."

"What do you mean?"

He pulled his hand away from his face. "Does the phrase _emotional whiplash_ mean anything to you?"

Elsa nodded weakly. "Yeah," she choked. "It sort of describes the last 2 days of my life."

"That's probably fair."

There was a suddenly a humming sound, echoing far off, as if through a tunnel. It was getting closer. Jack abruptly stood up, kicking his staff into his hands and leaping in front of Elsa.

After a brief moment, he felt her gloved hand resting on his shoulder.

"It's okay," she sighed. "That would be our scapegoat."

Jack then watched in shock as Elsa walked over to a delicate carpet on the side of the room, stretched underneath a table. Kneeling down, she pulled it up, revealing a trapdoor.

"Secret escape route," she explained, seeing the surprise in Jack's face. "Anna and I used to play in here when we were little."

"It looks fun."

She looked back up to him, smiling shyly.

"It was," she admitted.

Something knocked on the other side of the trapdoor. Elsa pulled up on the old, rusted handle in the ground, revealing a long, dark tunnel beneath.

Jack leapt back in shock as a gleaming, sparkling something caught the light, shooting out of the hole and being held in the air. The two twigs, moving like arms, then carefully set the icy teddy bear down on the carpet, a chortling giggle echoing through the tunnel as the sticks retracted into the darkness.

The Snow Queen smiled kindly, restraining from a laugh as she reached into the hole, grasping a large, white something as the twig arms reached for her. The white mass giggled again as she pulled it up, and as she set it down onto the carpet, Jack's eyes bulged, suddenly realizing what it was.

It was: a _snowman_.

"Wait," Jack stammered, "Is that—did that snowman just— _!_ "

"— **HAI!"** the snowman squealed, spinning around to face him, " **I'M OLAF.** And I like WARM HUGS!"

Jack Frost's mouth fell open in shock.

"And it _talks?"_ he gasped.

Elsa laughed. "Olaf is a _dear_ member of our family."

"But—b-but he's a—"

He looked to Elsa helplessly, his voice trailing off.

"Snowman?" she prompted.

Jack abruptly shut his mouth. Clapping his hands together and touching the tips of his fingers to the bridge of his nose, he then spun around, looking back down into its large, brown eyes.

"And you're _alive,"_ Jack breathed.

The snowman raised his frosty eyebrows, stretching out his stick arms.

"I…" he warbled, " _Think_ … so?"

Jack's eyes bulged. Looking up, he suddenly realized that a tiny, almost-translucent storm cloud was hovering a few inches above the living snowman's head, snowflakes falling down to him in his own personal flurry.

Touching the tips of his fingers to his nose again, Jack slowly turned back to the Snow Queen.

"Elsa, can I please talk to you for a minute?" he squeaked.

"Why, what's— _eep!"_

Having grabbed her gloved hand, Jack Frost was already pulling her away from the snowman, stomping to the side of the room. A few paces down the carpet, he then let go, whirling around to face her.

" _HOW?"_ Jack choked, "HOW is it that—it—"

"—Olaf?" she asked in confusion. "What about him?"

"I _know_ that this may come as a shock to you," Jack snapped, "But until about ten seconds ago, I was pretty convinced that the world's _leading_ authority on snowmen was _ME!"_

"I—"

"— _Tell me_ , do there happen to be any _OTHER_ earth-shattering revelations _that you'd like to take this moment to share?"_ Jack sputtered, " _First_ , it was the cloth thing! Then, you're MELTING the blasted stuff, and _now_ , you've got _TALKING SNOWMEN?!"_

 **"—** **I** ** _SING_** **, TOO!"**

 **"** **GEAUGH!"**

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Jack startled into the air and looked down. The little snowman was suddenly standing right beside them, holding his head aloft above the rest of his body and goofily beaming up into their faces.

" _And_ I can dance," the snowman added proudly. Elsa giggled at Jack's expression, covering her mouth with her hand as the Spirit of Winter hesitantly floated back down onto the ground, his heart pounding.

"But he's— _he's—!"_ Jack gasped. "Out of _snow! HOW_ is that even _possible?!_ I mean, he's actually _ALIVE!_ I've made PLENTY of snowmen in my day, but I'm pretty sure that nothing I've built has ever started _TALKING TO ME_ before! _"_

"Maybe—um," Elsa said softly, "Maybe it's because I'm a woman?"

Jack looked at her suspiciously. "Because you're a _woman?"_ he repeated.

"Well—you know. _Life?_ " Elsa explained, dropping her voice to a whisper as her cheeks flushed slightly, "Like— _creating_ —life? It would make sense that I could bring snow to life, when you think of it that way. Like having a child."

"But—without anybody else— _involved?"_

Elsa nodded as a look of hurt confusion swept over Jack's face.

"Um…" she said slowly. "Yes?"

Jack's face went pale. Half a second later, he then set his jaw, his previously offended expression hardening into a death glare.

"Um—can I _respond_ to that?" he whispered, "Like—on behalf of the _entire male population_ of earth?"

Elsa shrugged. "Well, I suppose if—"

 ** _"—_** ** _NO,"_** Jack gritted forcefully.

"Hey, what are you guys talking abou—"

 **"—** ** _NOTHING!"_** Elsa and Jack blurted together, suddenly remembering that little snowman was still standing beside them.

"See? _Olaf_ will tell you," Elsa started again, walking behind the little snowman, _"I_ made him. I made him _all_ by myself, and _I,_ a _woman,_ did it without _any_ help from any silly old _man!"_

The snowman shook his head. "But there WAS a man!"

 ** _"_** ** _WHAT?!"_** Elsa and Jack jolted simultaneously.

"NoNoNo, REALLY! There _WAS!"_ Olaf giggled, leaping out onto the carpet and spinning around to face her, "I remember it just like it was _yesterday!_ I mean, I didn't REALLY remember it until after you _built_ me, but—"

 **"—** **HA!** _See?"_ Elsa stammered, " **THERE!** _RIGHT_ there! YOU just said I made you!"

"Noooooo, I said you _built_ me," Olaf corrected, "I mean, sometimes you make the snow, too, like with Marshmallow, but _I_ was mostly all there on the mountain as it was. _You_ just put me together. And then Anna and Kristoff gave me a nose, and now I'm _PERFECT!_ "

He leapt into the air again, his top section twirling independently on his bottom as his chortling squeal of a giggle rang through the throne room once again.

"So—wait," Elsa stammered, "You remember being _formed?"_

"Oh, no. I just remember the blizzard," he said thoughtfully, "I was in a cloud, and then there was this BIG storm, and then I was on the mountain, waiting for you!"

Jack's eyes narrowed, "So—uh," he said carefully, an unexpected pang of jealousy hitting him in the chest, "How—do you know that there was a guy involved at all?"

"The Moon told me!"

"WHAT?!" Jack exclaimed. " _Manny?!_ What'd he say?"

"Ooooh, a lot of things," Olaf shrugged, counting on his stick fingers, "I was really lonely, and I didn't know what to do, and then there was this voice telling me that my name was **OLAF** , and that I should just hang around until I met a girl and a guy and a funky-looking reindeer. Plus, there was something about being a child of snow, because I was made in a blizzard from the Spirit of Winter and built by the Snow Queen."

"The Spirit of Winter?" Elsa asked, "You mean—like— _Jack Frost?_ "

" _Yeah!"_

Jack's breath caught. His eyes widening, he looked down to his hands, turning them over and staring at them in wonder. He could— _do_ that?

"I actually read about him in one of the kids' books with Kristoff," Olaf bubbled, "So, I know ALL ABOUT him. He's supposed to be skinny, and has ice powers, and white hair, and he's supposed to be REALLY fun, and he has BIG blue eyes, kind of like yours, Elsa, did you know that? And— _!_ "

Looking upwards, Olaf suddenly caught sight of Jack again, his voice trailing off. Seeing Jack's white hair—and blue eyes—and finally the ice particles webbed across his hoodie—his eyes bulged.

"IT'S **_YOOOOOOU!"_** Olaf shrieked, leaping into the air, "It'sYOUit'sYOUit'sYOU **It'sYOU**! _I can't BELIEVE it;_ **it's YOooooOOOOOOU!"**

"Uh—yep," Jack admitted, shrugging self-consciously, "I'm—me—um, it's nice to- ** _OOF!"_**

Jack Frost stumbled backwards as the little snowman lurched into his legs, embracing them as he giggled uncontrollably, hopping up and down and practically sobbing with joy.

"It's _YOOOOOOU!"_ Olaf squealed, "IT'S-YOU-IT'S-YOU-IT'S-YOU-IT'S-YOU, and—waitaminute. I just had a _thought!"_

"Uh—"

"It's like—Elsa, it's like, you're my MOM," the snowman gasped, "And—Jack Frost is my DAD! I HAVE PARENTS! I HAVE PARENTS I HAVE PARENTS I HAVE PARENTS AND THEY'RE FINALLY TOGETHER AT LAAAAAAST!"

Jack's eyes widened, and he looked up to Elsa in shock. Her mouth was hanging open, her face flushed as she stared at her tiny snowman with disbelief.

Looking up to the Spirit of Winter again, their eyes met. Elsa gulped.

"Everything I know about biology is wrong," she squeaked.

Jack nodded weakly. "Did we just _break_ science?"

"I think we might have."

"How long did you say we've known each other, now?"

She pulled in her breath, crossing her arms over her chest. "About 36 hours?"

"A day and a half. Great."

Jack looked down, realizing that Olaf was still hugging his legs, giggling and trembling uncontrollably with joy. Holding his arms up, and still unable to move, Jack shrugged, giving a tiny nod and looking up at Elsa.

"Okay. You've got to hand it to us," he laughed softly, raising his eyebrows. "We apparently make _really_ cute kids."

Elsa blushed a deep shade of red.

Letting out his breath, Jack looked up, awkwardly glancing about the room. Looking down the carpet, he jolted, suddenly realizing that the passed-out suitor was still lying on the floor.

 _Right._

"So—Olaf," he started, reaching down and carefully prying the snowman's arms off of his legs, "The reason we called you here is because—ah—we need to ask you for a favor. Do you think you could help us out?"

"Yeah! Why?"

"That man over there," Jack explained as he crouched down in front of the snowman. "Do you think you could take the blame for knocking him out with the vase?"

"Yeah! Why?"

"Why do we need you to take the blame?"

"Why is he knocked out?"

Jack looked up at Elsa, who had crossed her arms across her chest again, slightly hunched over with worry. He could see from the pleading in her eyes that she didn't want to tell Olaf what had happened.

He looked back to the snowman. _Yeah, he doesn't need to know,_ he thought.

Jack then pulled in a deep breath. "He was—um— _being mean_ —to Elsa," he explained carefully. Elsa's face relaxed a bit. "And I kind of got a little angry, and then I sort of swung a vase into his head."

"Why do you need me, then?" Olaf asked, wide-eyed.

Elsa sighed, biting her lip and kneeling down next to Jack. "Olaf, Jack is invisible to most people. So, if you don't take the blame, they'll think _I_ did it, and there will be war."

"Oooooooooooh. Okay!" A look of confusion then swept over the snowman's face, and he looked up again. "Wait," he bubbled. "What's war?"

Elsa and Jack looked at each other. Jack then crossed his legs, sitting on the floor.

"Ooooookay," he started off, "Imagine that there are a bunch of kingdoms, with lots and lots of people, just like this one, alright?"

Olaf gasped. "Are they _NICE_ people?"

"Oh, _yes_ ," Jack continued, " _Very_ nice people. And they all get along perfectly and give each other presents and hold parties and love each other."

Olaf pulled in another long gasp. "And?" he exclaimed, trembling with excitement, " _And?"_

"And _WAR,"_ Jack said enthusiastically, getting to his feet again, "Is _EXACTLY_ the opposite of that!"

"JACK!" Elsa exclaimed.

Olaf had frozen in his place. After a few moments, his smile faded, a look of horror sweeping over his face.

" _Oooooooooh,"_ Olaf said quietly, "That's— _bad_."

" _Yes_. War is bad," Elsa stammered, throwing a dark glare in Jack's direction, "Which is why we _don't want one_. So, you're going to have to pretend that YOU dropped the vase on the man's head. You're adorable. Everyone will forgive you _._ "

"Okay!"

King Edvin was suddenly groaning again. Jack glanced to Elsa, and realized that her face had suddenly drained of color.

"Showtime," he whispered. "You can do it."

Elsa looked nervously at the king, who was beginning to turn over on the floor. Jack put his hand on her shoulder.

"This will all be over in about a minute," he reassured her.

She said nothing, but nodded, as Jack stood a step backwards, sitting down on one of the chairs. Then, rushing over to the king with Olaf beside her, Elsa let out a long scream.

"OLAF! _How COULD you?"_ she shrieked suddenly, "Guards! _GUARDS!"_

The door crashed open, and two heavily-armed men in uniforms came rushing in, along with King Edvin's two attendants. " _Your majesty!"_

"Oh, King Edvin, I am _so sorry!"_ she exclaimed dramatically, bending over his body, "My—my snowman—he dropped a _vase_ on your head! _Bad snowman!"_

The men gasped, running forward and offering assistance as King Edvin started to sit up, holding his head in his hands. He turned back to Elsa in absolute confusion as the men helped him to sit up, and then stumble onto his feet.

 _"S-s-snowman?"_ he stammered, "There wasn't a—"

"—I was showing him my snowman, Olaf," Elsa interrupted nervously, looking pleadingly to the attendants, "Olaf was here the whole _time._ King Edvin, don't you _remember?"_

His eyes widened as his lopsided crown fell into his face. " _What?"_

The attendants, one under each arm, struggled to pull him onto his feet. Elsa, feigning anger, turned back to Olaf, holding out her finger. " _Snowman!_ Apologize to King Edvin this _instant!"_

"Oh—right!" Olaf said suddenly, spinning around. "I dropped a vase on his head! Yes, I did!"

" _It TALKS?"_ King Edvin sputtered.

"I AM SORRY FOR KNOCKING YOU OUT!" Olaf proclaimed enthusiastically, beaming. Jack restrained from a snort.

Elsa stood in her place, looking worried, as the horrified—and confused—King Edvin, leaning onto the shoulders of his attendants, tripped and stumbled out of the room. The guards bowed to her, with grave expressions on their faces, and then followed, with Olaf squeezing out behind them to continue with his less-than-convincing apology routine.

The doors closed behind them, leaving Elsa standing, alone, in the middle of the throne room.

Jack stood up, tossing his staff in his hands and walking towards her. She looked back to him, gasping for breath, her eyes wide with terror again.

"Do you—do you think that was okay?" she choked.

"You were fine," Jack reassured her, "We had the advantage, remember? The witness just got clonked over the head. I could see in his eyes that he's questioning his sanity."

"Oh, good." She slowly exhaled, stumbling back a step and folding her arms across her chest. "I'm worried about Olaf, though."

"Don't be. He's a _very_ convincing moron."

She let out a nervous, bitter giggle. Then, taking her arms down, she sighed, her eyes wide again.

"So… what now?" she asked him quietly.

Jack raised his eyebrows, taking another step towards her. "Well," he said slowly, "For one thing—now that that's done with—I can stop pretending not to notice that you're wearing _gloves_."

She blushed, biting her lip and looking down. Then, grimacing, she met Jack's gaze again. "I—the Council—"

"—I know." Jack placed his staff on the ground, gesturing for her hand. "May I…?"

Elsa shakily held out her hands. Jack gently took them in his own, gazing into her eyes as he pulled off her left glove first, and then her right. Then, with Elsa watching, he took a few steps back.

Suddenly spinning around, Jack flung them into the air, snatching up his staff and aiming.

 _CRACK!_

As thousands of shards of ice erupted out of the end of the shepherd's crook and hit the gloves, the thick cloth turned into ice, plummeting towards the floor below and shattering into dust.


	21. Not Sir

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey again, everybody! Thank you SO MUCH to the people that saw my last note and have filled out reviews! With the traffic counter thingy down-and apparently, with PM'ing down, too-reviews are still, currently, my only way of gauging audience reaction. Therefore, I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me know A) if you're even reading this, and B) if you're liking where it's going! This chapter gets a bit sad, but happy times are still coming back. Have a fantabulous day!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Brief discussion of sexual assault, implied reference to child abuse**

 **.**

 **21: NOT SIR**

"Hey."

Jack looked up. Anna, her arms crossed over her chest, was suddenly standing in front of him, next to the door of Elsa's room. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

He stood up, pulling his hood off his head. "Um… hey."

Anna closed her eyes, drawing in a long breath. Then, she looked up into his face. "Elsa told me what happened," she said quietly. "I mean, with the suitor."

Jack bit his lip, sticking his hands into his front pocket. "How's she doing?"

"It's starting to sink in," Anna sighed. "She's been crying for about an hour, now."

"It was only a matter of time."

She nodded, staring at the ground. Then, uncrossing her arms, she let out a long sigh.

"I—I guess I owe you an apology," she stammered. "I misjudged you."

"It's okay—you don't have to _OOF!"_

Jack stumbled back a step as Anna flung her arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as she could over her enormously pregnant stomach.

"You _saved my sister_ ," she whispered intensely, right next to his ear.

"It wasn't a big deal."

Anna let him go, taking a step back. "If you had a sister, you'd understand."

"Anna, I _did_ have a sister."

Her eyes widened, her breath catching. Jack then watched as Anna clapped her hand over her mouth. "I—I'm so sorry," she blurted, blushing.

Jack shrugged. "You're fine," he said, "But—yeah, I understand. My sister was _everything_ to me, before—"

He stopped abruptly.

 _Before I died,_ he thought, looking into Anna's earnest face, _Yeah, you probably don't need to know that little detail about me yet._

"Did she…pass on?" Anna prompted softly.

 _Technically, yes. About 70 years after I did._ Jack nodded, pressing his lips together.

"Oh, _Jack_ ," she sighed. "I am so—"

"—It's okay. It was a long time ago," he interrupted. "But, um—Elsa—?"

"—You can marry her now. If you want."

Jack raised his eyebrows, letting out a short bark of laughter in spite of himself. The statement seemed so out of place.

"Oh—um," he chuckled, " _Thank you_ , Anna. But do you think she's—?"

Anna bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah. You can probably go in, now. If you want to see her."

Jack nodded, leaning onto his staff. Then, as he was about to reach for the door handle, Anna leapt in front of him again.

"Just so you know," she blurted, "Elsa's not usually like this."

"How do you mean?"

"Well…" Anna's voice trailed off. "Um… _crying_ every two hours."

Jack shrugged. "She's had a really intense couple of days."

" _So have you,"_ Anna said quietly. "But you haven't—well—broken down. I mean, you haven't, like, _cried_ , or anything. You know?"

 _Oh, bless you, Kristoff,_ Jack thought.

"Nah," he lied, "But that's—different."

"How?"

"It just is."

He reached for the door again. Giving a tiny _oh,_ Anna took a step back, getting out of his way.

"Good luck," she stammered, "By the way. With her."

He found himself smiling weakly again. "Yeah. Um—thanks, Anna."

Jack then silently turned the doorknob, pushing it in and entering the room.

.

.

Sitting on the floor of her room, Elsa hugged her knees to her chest, letting the tears roll freely down her face as flurries of snow fell silently onto the carpet around her.

Now that it was sinking in what had happened—now that the shock had passed—she felt so _broken._ How could King Edvin have said those things? Were they really true? Maybe she really _couldn't_ rule as well as a woman…

Elsa shook her head vigorously, as if trying to shake out the thought from her mind. Her arm was still tingling with the memory of where he had grabbed her, like it somehow wasn't really her own anymore.

Like nothing on her body was.

As soon as Jack had taken her back to her room and found Anna, Elsa had rummaged through the back of her seldom-used wardrobe and found a dress from before her coronation. Forgoing her standard icy sheath and the day's adventurous single inch of cleavage, she had now opted for a thick woolen dress, dyed navy blue, with a high collared-jacket and full, ankle-length skirt. Elsa knew that she had an extremely curvy body, especially in her hips, and she had never felt so self-conscious of it in her entire life. _Perhaps_ , she had initially thought, if she could simply _hide_ it more, with the thicker, more "innocent" outfit, she would feel safer. Perhaps the tailored jacket and full, ankle-length skirt could let her feel less… _dirty_.

It hadn't helped.

She shifted uncomfortably in the dress, the wool scratching against her skin. _Oh,_ she had forgotten how much she'd hated the material. This woolen dress was heavy. Constricting. Nothing like her ice. As much as she loved the glistening detail of her ice dresses, and the attention she received from the press for wearing them (which didn't at _all_ hurt for her royal branding), it wasn't just the look that inspired the Snow Queen to create new pieces every morning. In Elsa's eyes—as silly as it may have seemed—even better than the crisp, light feeling that her ice fabric brought, ice fabric felt like freedom.

But freedom was dangerous. Normally, this wasn't enough to deter her, because she was confident enough in her power to know that she could easily fend off any attack that this danger might bring. But now, she'd learned that there _were_ attacks that she couldn't defend herself against. How could she be confident in her own power, when confronted with the terrifying prospect that her power might be an illusion?

 _Your—lovely—companionship,_ he had said, eying her up and down. _You are very beautiful, Queen Elsa… and also, very young…_

Elsa looked down at her stomach, feeling the unfamiliar weight of the gown and hugging her knees tighter to her chest. She _did_ feel young. Very young, and very powerless. And as for her so-called _beauty_ , she didn't particularly want to feel beautiful for _anyone_ , for a very, very long time.

 _Your… femininity,_ his voice played in her mind.

 _Shut up!_ Elsa thought desperately, sucking in her breath and shaking her head again, _Shut! UP!_

Somewhere from across the room, the door of her bedroom opened with a long creak. A long, slender shadow fell across the carpet in front of her, and as she heard the door close again—without hearing the sound of any footsteps—she didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Elsa felt herself stiffen against the wall as he silently walked over towards her. She squeezed her eyes shut determinately, unsure of how to feel, as Jack Frost carefully placed his staff on the ground, then leaning against the wall and sliding down next to her. In her peripheral vision, Elsa saw that he'd pulled up his hood, a clump of his white hair sticking out of the front of it.

They sat in silence.

After a few minutes had passed, Jack hesitantly scooted closer to Elsa on the floor. She had looked up, finding her own eyes staring into his piercingly blue ones. He gingerly began to put his arm around her, and she had inched closer to him in response, saying nothing, but accepting it. He then held her for a few more minutes in the silence as she cried uncontrollably, the two of them sitting together in her gathering snowdrifts.

 _Does that mean… it will melt off of you… under the warmth of a man's touch?_ King Edvin's voice played in her mind.

Elsa let of an involuntary sigh of relief, feeling Jack's arms around her. _Not this man's touch,_ she thought to herself. His arms, feeling strangely familiar to her after only two days, were beautifully, and reassuringly, cold.

So, so beautifully cold.

Elsa finally felt the tears beginning to slow, her breaths coming in more regular and controlled intervals.

"Jack…"

He took his arm off of her, helping her up. Elsa accepted his hand, sitting back into her place on the carpet, surrounded by snow. She stared at the ground in his direction, still not making eye contact as she messily wiped her arm across her face.

"Yeah?" he asked softly.

"I—I threw you out," she shook, "And then—well, I guess I'm just—Jack," Elsa stammered, finally looking up into his eyes, "Why'd you come _back_ for me?"

He drew in his breath. Elsa gulped, her eyes wide as she looked into his face. It was filled with pain, poorly hidden, as he struggled to find the right words.

"You—um—you're not going to understand how much that _cut_ me," he admitted, "Well—earlier today. When you walked through me. But," Jack paused, shaking his head, "Elsa—I don't _hate_ you. I wasn't about to walk off and leave you alone with that creep."

"Maybe if I'd worn something different," she stammered, "If my dress was too—"

"—Oh, yeah, _THAT'S_ the problem," he scoffed, "You look like a girl. How dare you."

He rolled his eyes, then shaking his head and staring forward again. Reaching out his foot for the staff on the carpet, he kicked it into his hand, then setting its end on the floor and beginning to absent-mindedly turn it, the curved hook spinning in the air above them.

Pulling in her breath, Elsa fidgeted with her fingers.

"So—um," she asked hesitantly, "You—you think my ice clothes are okay?"

He shrugged. "Are they a part of who you are?"

"I suppose so."

Jack caught the staff, looking to her and raising his eyebrows.

"Then you tell me," he said quietly.

Elsa let out her breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit.

"And besides, I—um," Jack added, letting out a nervous laugh as he began to spin the staff again, "I—think it's kind of amazing. Actually. That you can even _do_ that."

"You really think so?"

"I have _never_ seen ice like yours," he said, catching the staff again and letting it fall back towards them, the top of the shepherd's crook resting against the wall. "And I have seen—a _lot—_ of ice."

He smiled good-naturedly. Nodding, Elsa bit the edge of her lip, scooting an inch closer to him.

"Oh—and—um—and between you and me," Jack added, picking up the edge of her cuff and raising an eyebrow, "I don't think that the _Snow Queen of Arendelle_ would be caught _dead_ wearing something as drab as _wool."_

Elsa looked up to realize that Jack's face was suddenly right next to her own, his usually piercing blue eyes soft as he gazed into hers. She blushed, laughing in spite of herself, and he grinned again, letting go of her cuff as she sniffed and rubbed her opposite arm across her nose.

"But _you're_ wearing wool," Elsa protested weakly, looking to the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Yeah. Well…"

Jack let out his breath, leaning his head back against the wall. After a few moments, Elsa watched as he rolled his face towards her, a sly smile twitching out of the side of his mouth.

"Why don't we agree that you'll be fashionable enough for the both of us, okay?" he whispered.

Jack shrugged, giving her arm a gentle nudge. Blinking quickly, Elsa let out another breathy, nervous laugh as she felt her eyes start welling up again.

"I—I'm sorry," she stammered, frantically flicking more tears off of her cheeks, "I don't know why I'm so emotional right now—I know I'm p-probably overreacting, and—"

"— _Overreacting?"_ Jack exclaimed.

"You know," she said quickly, "About the audience. I don't know why I can't just calm down, after—"

"—He _grabbed_ you!"

"Yeah, but nothing actually—"

"—It _DOESN'T MATTER!"_

She froze, her heart leaping into her throat. His jaw tense, Jack pulled in a deep breath, visibly struggling to contain his anger.

"It _doesn't matter_ whether or not he was able to actually _do_ anything," he gritted. "The point was that he _tried_. That's just as bad."

Elsa was silent, staring at him in shock.

Letting out his breath, Jack Frost looked back to his staff that was leaning up against the wall above them. After a few more moments of silence—watching him bite his lip, staring determinately forward and avoiding eye contact—Elsa swallowed hard, drawing in a deep breath to try again.

"I suppose you're right," she choked. "I just—it caught me off-guard."

Jack snorted. "You don't say."

"But I should have been ready. I'm the _Queen_ ," she groaned, "I mean, he pulled a power play on me. On _Arendelle._ I don't believe in dirty politics, but—"

"—That was _NOT_ politics," Jack snapped. "That was just _wrong_."

"Wait—you don't think that was political?"

"NO."

"Then why did…"

Elsa's voice trailed off, and she looked down into her lap, a wave of confusion sweeping over her face at the statement. How could it _not_ have been politics? If it wasn't something _she_ did, and it wasn't about _Arendelle…_

"I—I'm sorry," she whimpered, her voice hardly more than a whisper as she shrank away from him in embarrassment. "I'm just—trying to make sense of it. I just want to understand."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Can I try?"

She stared into her lap, fidgeting with her fingers. Then, letting out her breath, Elsa looked back up into his eyes and nodded.

He set his jaw, glaring.

"He ATTACKED you. He's a scumbag. _End of story_ ," Jack enunciated. "It has a name. It's called assault. _Stop justifying it."_

Elsa shifted uncomfortably in the unfamiliar dress, staring into her lap again. "B-b-but he didn't have a weapon, or anything," she stammered, "And, it's not like he was trying to _steal_ something, or make a war deal, or—you know? And I could've fought him off, anyway."

"Yeah, okay, _sexual_ assault, then. Arguably worse." He scoffed, shaking his head and leaning it back against the wall. " _Sicko_."

Elsa stared at him blankly.

"What?" Jack asked, "You know… uh… _sexual_ … sexual assault…?"

She shook her head.

Jack's eyes widened.

Then, he looked away, leaning forward and clapping his palm over his eyes. " _Let_ me guess," he groaned, pulling his hand down his face, "Your parents didn't feel the need to teach you about _that,_ either."

"I'm sorry," she admitted, "I—

"— _What was WRONG with your PARENTS?"_ he sputtered.

"They did their best—"

"—Yeah, well, it sounds like they never got around to the actual _parenting_ part of _parenting,"_ he scoffed. "What did they even _teach_ you, for all those years?"

Elsa thought for a moment. She then swallowed hard, hesitantly glancing in his direction. "Um…" she squeaked, "I— _ice powers bad?_ "

"My, what a useful thing for a young daughter with ice powers to know."

Elsa felt herself blushing, and sat up a little higher against the wall. She looked back to him, and their eyes met.

Jack drew in a deep breath.

" _Oooookay_ , how do I explain this," he mumbled, kneading his eyebrows. "Uh—let's see—two things, okay? First thing: Nobody has a right to touch you anywhere, for any reason, without your consent. Second thing: If they do, it's not your fault. Ever. Alright?"

Elsa bit her lip. "That's it?"

"That's it." Jack let out his breath, leaning his head back against the wall. "Wait. Actually, no. There is a third thing."

"What's that?"

He looked over to her. "If anyone tries to do _anything_ like that to you again," he said quietly, "You tell me, and I kill them. Okay?"

Elsa said nothing, nodding.

The silence fell over them once more. Pulling in a long breath, Elsa watched as Jack closed his eyes, like he was silently rebuking himself in an effort to calm down.

"Um… Jack?" she quavered. "Are you—are you okay?"

He opened his eyes again, picking up the staff. "Elsa—I just watched that guy use something that's _supposed_ to be fun to try to hurt you. Like—to inspire _fear_ ," he gritted. "That doesn't— _sit_ well, with me."

"You're really passionate about this," Elsa asked. "Aren't you?"

The Youngest Guardian's ears turned pink, and he stared forward, spinning his staff on the ground. Catching it, he pulled in his breath.

"Having fun is important," Jack Frost mumbled.

Elsa didn't respond.

After a few more moments, awkwardly spinning his staff in the silence, Jack pulled in another quick breath to try again.

"Look… fun is good. Fear is bad," he sighed. "That… well, that sort of defines my existence."

She nodded, biting her lip. Shifting on her hips as she considered the statement, the silence fell over them once again.

"And ice powers," Elsa stammered suddenly.

He jumped, looking back to her. After a few moments, he shook his head, his face cracking into a grin.

"Um… right," Jack laughed softly. "That, and ice powers."

He smiled good-naturedly, planting the end of his staff in the carpet and pulling himself onto his feet. Turning back around to face her, he drew in his breath.

"But as fun as it is to _talk_ to somebody else with ice powers," he started again, offering his hand, "It's pretty late, Elsa. And I've kept you up for a couple nights in a row, already."

She said nothing, but nodded, taking it. Jack pulled her onto her feet, then dropping her hand and taking a step back as she brushed off her dress.

"I have _no_ idea how to apologize," Elsa choked. " _Or_ thank you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Just promise to _never_ shut me out like that again, alright?"

"That's a _horrible_ thank you gift," she retorted, "I mean, I _do_ promise, but I—wait. Can I give you an award?"

"Uh…" Jack said slowly, "An… award?"

"I'm a queen. I give people awards for things."

He smiled bitterly. " _Gee_ ," he chuckled, arching an eyebrow, "You think Arendelle will formally recognize an invisible snow sprite?"

"This isn't an award from Arendelle."

"Then who's awarding me?"

"How about the Ice Alliance?"

Jack's eyes widened.

"Wait…" he breathed. "Really?"

Elsa nodded.

Looking down to his feet, Jack stuck his hand into his front pocket, kicking at the carpet for a moment. Letting his staff fall back onto his shoulder, he then looked back into her eyes, a sheepish smile on his face.

"So… um," he asked hopefully, "This—this means we're an alliance again?"

"I'd certainly hope so."

Elsa watched as a wave of relief swept over his face. Her own expression softening, the young queen felt her heart swell, years' worth of built-up tension and insecurities beginning to melt away as she and the Spirit of Winter shyly stared into each other's eyes.

His gaze was so kind…

After a few moments, Jack cleared his throat.

"So, the—you were wanting to—"

" _Oh!_ Right!"

Elsa snapped back into focus, taking a step back from him. Sweeping her hand forward, a soft rumbling as it materialized out of the carpet, a long, sparkling sword of ice stood on its tip before them.

Jack's eyes widened as Elsa stepped forward, taking the ice sword by its hilt and picking it up. As she readjusted her grip, setting it gleaming, he let out a breathy laugh.

"Remind me not to get on _your_ bad side," Jack breathed.

She didn't respond, but beamed, drawing herself up as she turned back to him.

" _Jack Frost_ ," Elsa started, "I, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, am honored to bestow upon you the highest honor that can be given to a member of the Ice Alliance. You may kneel."

His cheeks flushing slightly, Jack obeyed, silently getting onto one knee. Pulling in her breath, Elsa lifted the crystalline sword, starting to gently lower it to his shoulder.

"Wait," Jack stammered, jolting back, "I—I'm not getting _knighted_ , am I?"

She froze and looked up.

"Wait," Elsa asked, "Would you like to be?"

"NO. I mean—uh," Jack admitted, "I guess it'd be—well, it'd be an honor, and stuff, but I—It's just that—well, _Sir_ Jack Frost just sounds—weird."

His cheeks flushed again, the tips of his ears going pink as he glanced down, shifting uncomfortably on his knee. Raising her eyebrows, Elsa leaned forward.

"You think it sounds snooty, don't you?"

He reached up, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding her gaze. " _Unbearably_ snooty," Jack scoffed, hesitantly looking back up into her eyes. "Like—I would _never hear the end of it,_ snooty."

"No knighthood, then," Elsa laughed. "But that's alright. I'm kind of thinking that it's not high enough, anyway."

An expression of confusion swept across his face. "What's higher than a knighthood?"

"How about a friendship?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. After a few moments, he let out another breathy, nervous laugh, nodding gratefully.

"Friendship is good," he agreed.

Elsa nodded, smiling as the Spirit of Winter pulled in his breath and his head. Drawing herself up, she lifted the icy sword once again, tapping it on his right, and then left, and then right shoulders.

" _You may rise,"_ Elsa declared, nodding regally and pulling back the sword as she went into Automatic Queen Mode, " _Sir—"_

 _"—_ _DON'T_ you dare."

Elsa jolted, abruptly opening her eyes and cutting herself off. Jack grinned up at her wryly, and she restrained for a giggle as she started again.

"You may rise, _Not-_ Sir Jack Frost. My—"

He raised his eyebrows, glancing up towards her in curiosity. She pulled in her breath, sweeping her hand forward and sending a spiral of snowflakes dancing through the air towards him.

"My—best friend," Elsa finished softly.

Jack looked down in surprise as the flurry of ice swirled into his shirt to solidify on the upper left side of his chest, a coin-sized, solid snowflake clinging to the wool on an icy ribbon. Jack's mouth fell open in shock, and Elsa's heart leapt as he gingerly reached up to touch it.

Grasping the medal, Jack's face cracked into a sheepish smile, and he said nothing, placing his hand on his thigh and pushing himself up onto his feet as he looked back up into her gaze. Elsa felt her shoulders relaxing, smiling shyly back as they stood together in the middle of the silent bedroom, staring into each other's eyes.

"Except for Anna," Elsa blurted.

Jack jumped, laughing. After a few moments, he fell quiet again.

Feeling the edges of the medal, he shook his head, his cheeks flushing as he looked back up into Elsa's eyes.

"Do you really consider me to be your best friend?" Jack asked softly.

She glanced down to her feet, fidgeting with her fingers. "Well," Elsa admitted, "To be completely honest, I—I've never really _had_ a friend before. I mean, that's not directly related to me."

"I guess that makes sense."

The silence fell again, and Elsa glanced to her bed. Suddenly realizing how tired she was—and seeing the icy room divider from their first morning together in her room by the foot of her bed—she bit her lip.

"Can I—um," she stammered, "I—I'm sorry—would it be okay if—?"

Her voice trailed off. Looking to her feet, the quiet fell as she nervously pulled her hands in close to her stomach, fidgeting with her fingers.

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"You want me to not look so you can change," he said.

Elsa nodded, feeling herself blushing again. To this, he smiled good-naturedly, picking up his staff and spinning away from her.

"It's fine," he laughed softly, dropping the end of his staff back into the carpet again and leaning into it. "Just tell me when I can turn around, okay?"

Elsa let out her breath, nodding and pacing across the room. Reaching the room divider, she then hesitantly looked back to where he was standing, to see that the Spirit of Winter was still turned away from her, respectfully staring at the ceiling.

Her heart swelling in gratitude, Elsa leapt behind the room divider, frantically beginning to fumble with the buttons on her woolen jacket.

"On the subject of the _best friend_ thing, though," Jack started, his voice carrying nearly unimpeded over the top of the thick screen, "I'm pretty sure that Anna falls into a totally different category."

Elsa nodded, pulling off the jacket and throwing it over the top edge of the room divider. She reached for the top of her bodice. "She's my sister."

"Seems like a really good one, too. That girl would _die_ for you."

"Technically, she did."

"Wait, _what?"_

"Long story."

Elsa pulled off the main bodice and threw it over the top of the room divider as well. Her fingers flying over its front, she then began undoing the front of her blouse, groaning inwardly at the ridiculousness of her old clothes. SO many unnecessary layers...

"I am _never_ beating Anna, am I?" Jack's voice started again as she shrugged out of the blouse, undoing the skirt and letting it slouch down onto her hips.

"Never."

He laughed, and Elsa felt her heart leap again, temporarily forgetting the frustration of the buttons. But she remembered it soon enough, feeling her back for the laces of her corset. Not the right one… not the… nope. Aaaand, no.

" _Gaaaaurgh,"_ Elsa groaned, " _Confounded—!"_

"Everything okay?"

"It's just— _there_ they are!"

Finally locating the end of the laces, Elsa slid her fingers into the knot. In a few moments, she had untied it and was yanking at the laces in the back of the piece, letting out her breath as the old corset loosened.

 _"_ Ice is _so_ much nicer than all of this— _everything,"_ she laughed bitterly, pulling off the corset and reaching for the petticoat. "Fashion is ridiculous."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but yeah. Ice is better."

"See, _this_ is why I think you're my best friend."

Finally out of the constricting woolen clothes, Elsa threw the petticoat over the top of the room divider, sweeping her hand over her body. A crisp, clean sheet of white ice materialized out of the air around her, settling onto her skin in a simple, innocent white nightgown and sweeping around her legs.

"If it means anything," Jack's voice said softly as Elsa pulled the ice over her arms into sleeves, "I—I think you're becoming my best friend, too."

Elsa felt her heart swell within her chest again. Saying nothing, she hesitantly peered around the edge of the room divider, seeing that Jack was still standing on the other side of the room, turned away from her.

Holding her breath, Elsa darted out from behind the room divider, sprinting across to her bed and leaping into it.

"You good now?" he asked.

"Oh—yes. Sorry," she admitted, puling the covers up over her chest, "And thank you."

"Nothing to apologize for."

Elsa shifted back in the sheets, adjusting her nightgown underneath her hips as he picked up his staff, turning and walking back over to her. As Jack spun around, gingerly sitting down on the edge of her bed, Elsa pulled in her breath.

"Jack… did something happen?"

"Something _happen?"_ he asked, looking to her in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"It just—you know," she pressed, "With—with the assault thing? I mean—you're so _passionate_ about this. Did something happen? Like—to you?"

"Wait—me? Oh, no. Not at all," he said, "I just—I know what this kind of abuse _does_ to people. Okay?"

"What do you mean?"

Jack shifted his fingers on the staff, closing his eyes for a moment. Opening them again and letting out his breath, he looked back up into her gaze.

"Elsa…" he said softly. "I work with _kids._ Remember?"

Elsa's eyes widened. "People do this to _kids?"_ she breathed.

The Youngest Guardian bit his lip, looking down as if he were suddenly struggling to keep his composure. Closing his eyes and then opening them again—trying to decide which words to use—he drew in his breath.

"There's a lot of darkness in his world," Jack said quietly.

Elsa's face went pale.

"How—!" She gave her head a quick shake, shifting on her hips. "How is that—how is that even—"

"—I know."

Jack sighed, looking into his lap. Elsa shook her head, leaning forward to him.

"How do you not get _angry?"_ she gasped, "How do you—"

"—Hey, I never said it doesn't make me _angry,"_ Jack scoffed. "It makes me more angry than just about anything."

"Do you ever go after the adults?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Like, for revenge?"

She nodded.

"Elsa…" he said quietly. "Our job is to try to bring joy to children. Now, as for the revenge thing," he said, taking in another deep breath, "What _good_ would that actually do for the kids?"

She swallowed hard, feeling her throat tighten with embarrassment.

He was right.

"Seriously, though—not _everyone_ is awful," Jack started again, making her look up. "At least, that's what we have to assume, as Guardians. Our job is to bring light and joy to children in any way that we can."

Elsa nodded weakly. "I suppose that makes sense," she conceded. "I mean, with the darkness thing. That you were telling me about earlier."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how do you fight _any_ kind of darkness?"

Jack's eyebrows lifted slightly. A hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth, he then looked back up into her eyes, his expression softening.

"With light," he said.

The peaceful silence fell again.

"No one can do everything, but everyone can do something," Jack added softly. "My thing is fun."

"My thing is political research."

They stared at each other for a moment in silence.

"My something is more boring than your something," Elsa said.

" _Aw_ , come on," Jack laughed, flicking the end of her nose. "Every something _helps._ And besides. I'm pretty sure that you've got more in you than _that."_

"You really think so?"

"I _know_ so . But for now," Jack added, pushing himself up from the edge of the bed and getting onto his feet, "I wouldn't worry about it. There'll be _plenty_ of time for you to philosophize yourself into a nervous breakdown in the morning."

He smiled good-naturedly, turning back around to face her. Picking up her hand in his own—a taking a moment to run his thumb over her skin—Jack then looked back up into her eyes.

"Well," he said softly, "I guess this is it. See you in the morning, Elsa."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. As he started to turn away, Elsa caught his wrist.

"— _Wait!"_

Jack turned back around to her, his eyebrows slightly raised. Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them again, shaking her head slightly.

"Don't—" she stammered, "Um—please don't—please don't go."

A hint of a smile began to appear out of the corner of his mouth. Jack took a step back towards her again, sitting on the edge of her bed and holding her hand. "What? Why not?"

She bit her lip, looking down, feeling his cool hand around hers. Elsa nervously opened her mouth to say something, and then abruptly closed it again.

Jack leaned forward, a little bit closer to her, staring into her face. "You're—um," he whispered, "You're scared—aren't you?"

She said nothing. Then, after a few moments, she sighed and nodded, looking up to meet his gaze. "I don't want to—um," Elsa choked, her voice hardly more than a squeak as Jack raised his eyebrows. " _See_ him again. I mean, what if I close my eyes, and he's there?"

"You're scared you'll have nightmares?"

Elsa bit her lip, looking down to the blankets and avoiding his gaze as more heat rushed to her face. It sounded so— _immature—_ when he put it like that _._

But that didn't make it any less true.

"Well… ma'am," Jack said softly, sitting back down on the edge of the bed and making Elsa look up again, "I can _personally_ promise you that _that's_ not going to happen."

She blushed, letting out a breathy, bitter laugh. "Since when does the _Spirit of Winter_ do battle with nightmares?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly shut it, deciding against the reply. Glancing into his lap—and calculating his words carefully—he looked back into her eyes.

"Wouldn't be my first time," Jack decided.

Just as Elsa was about to respond, Jack then suddenly shrugged, tossing his shepherd's crook into his opposite hand and holding it up.

" _No_ match for _THIS,"_ he said proudly, twirling it in-between his fingers, "Fun freezes 'em in their _tracks_. And besides. I've got a friend that can help me."

A look of confusion swept over her face as Jack dropped his staff onto his lap, then crossing his ankle over his opposite knee. "Are we talking about Anna again?" Elsa asked.

"Nah. I mean, well, _yes,_ but I was talking about someone else," he admitted. "I'm good with fun. He's good with dreams."

Elsa looked down to the covers, crossing her arms over her chest and considering the statement. After a few moments, her eyes bulged.

"Are—are you meaning the _Sandman?"_ Elsa gasped, looking back up to him. "The _Sandman_ is real?"

He laughed. "Well, _technically,_ I'm not really allowed to tell you," he chuckled, uncrossing his leg and pushing himself up from the edge of her bed. "Directly, I mean."

Elsa looked at him suspiciously. "How about—just offering an opinion?"

"What kind of opinion?"

"Do you _think_ I should believe?"

The Youngest Guardian raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I think you should."

Jack grinned, leaning forward and resting his chin on his fist. Elsa leaned her head back against the wall, shifting in her bed.

"You're friends with _The_ _Sandman?"_ she laughed breathlessly.

"He's pretty fun," Jack shrugged. "Sandy and I go way back."

" _Sandy!"_

Jack Frost nodded, glancing to her again with a sheepish grin. Elsa felt a jolt of excitement rush through her at the prospect, suddenly remembering who he was.

Of _course_ Jack Frost would know _The Sandman._

"Which is why _you_ need to go to sleep," he laughed, making her snap back into focus. "If he ever finds out how late I've kept you up, Sandy'll kill me."

"We stayed up really late _last_ night."

"We were having fun. It's different."

"How?"

"Because fun is _my_ turf, and Sandy knows it."

Flipping the staff back to place its end on the ground, Jack pushed himself up onto his feet again. Letting out his breath, he then turned back to face her, his face falling as he saw her expression.

" _Man_ ," he sighed, shaking his head, "You have no _idea_ how much I wish I could hit you with a little fun magic right now. I mean, I get it if that you're still freaking out about the necklace _,_ but—"

"—Jack, I _never_ had any issues with your using magic on me."

He stopped, a confused expression sweeping over his face. "You…" His voice trailed off, and then he looked back to her. "You didn't?"

"No! Not at all!" She sank down a little further under the covers. "It was just the fact that you didn't _tell_ me you were."

His eyes widened a bit with the sudden realization. Then, with a nervous laugh, he looked back to her, holding her hand as he stood up. "So—you wouldn't mind if—well, if I—?"

"—Jack, I _need_ to be able to get to sleep," Elsa said softly. "Kingdom to run, remember? I wouldn't mind a little help in the least. And there's a long day of researching Arendelle's child abuse laws in the morning."

"That's a very good point, my queen," he said softly. Jack then let go of her hand, standing next to the bed and pushing back a strand of hair from her face. "Well—have sweet dreams, I suppose. I'll see you in the morning, Snowflake."

She closed her eyes. The cool, icy feeling of his lips brushing against her forehead, followed by a wave of calm sweeping over her, was the last thing that Elsa remembered before drifting off to sleep.


	22. The Next Layer

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, everybody. GUESS WHAT. The traffic counter thingy is still broken. Thank you so much for your patience and to all of those who have given me reviews. I would really appreciate it if you'd continue! Love you all, and have a fabulous day! :D**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo, as usual**

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 **22: THE NEXT LAYER**

Jack straightened up from Elsa's bed, taking a step back. Her face was relaxed, her hair spread around her on the pillow like a halo again. The young queen was already sound asleep, her chest rising up and down, breathing steadily.

 _That's more like it,_ he thought. _Get some rest, Snowflake._

He reached forward, gently pushing back another hair from Elsa's face. She was so beautiful… and she believed in him. She believed in him completely, and totally, and had promised not to ever shut him out again. And he had a hunch that Elsa was not accustomed to making promises she didn't keep.

Jack reached for the medal, fingering the clasp and pulling it off of his hoodie, turning it over. With his staff in his other hand, he gently sat down on the edge of the bed again, next to Elsa, admiring the snowflake's delicate structure. It was definitely Elsa's work; its characteristic six points spiked out from a series of swirling sculpted hexagons, with all the intricate and feminine details that only she could create.

He smiled to himself, tossing it in his hand and holding it to his chest as he bowed his head forward. He didn't want to put it back on, just yet. Just feeling it, the cold, delicate ice in his hand, was _so_ wonderful…

A distinct, golden shimmering from outside Elsa's window caught his eye.

Jack abruptly stood up, shoving the medal into his pocket, and ran over to the window, staring out into the darkness of the Scandinavian night. He then glanced back to Elsa, his face breaking into a smile, before leaping into the air and darting through the door into the art gallery. Without once touching his feet to the ground, he flew down the hall, rushing out onto the balcony at the end of it and bursting out into the cold wind.

 _Right on time, Sandman._

The waves and ribbons of gold twisted through the dark canvas of the sky over Arendelle, reflecting off the black surface of the fjord and the glimmering snow of the mountains behind it. Jack, letting the wind catch up his body, blew almost instantaneously up to the top of the castle, grasping the top spike of it and spinning around.

"Hey! _Sandy!"_ he called out. _"SANDY!"_

But the golden cloud moving over the castle didn't stop. Jack shrugged, and flung the end of his staff at the dark sky.

 _CRACK!_

Sparkling ice shot straight up from the peak of the roof, and Jack watched as the cloud paused. The Sandman's face suddenly appeared over the edge of it, trying to locate the source of the sound. Finally, his eyes met Jack's, from across the courtyard.

Jack's face broke into a grin, and he beckoned, leaping off the edge of the roof and floating down onto Elsa's balcony. Sandy lifted his arms, and a long carpet of sand unraveled from the cloud. Jack watched as he then leapt onto it, his arms in the air, silently rushing down the slide and landing beside him.

"Hey, Sandy," Jack whispered. "I—um, I need a favor."

The Sandman raised his eyebrows in curiosity. Reaching his hand up to his golden hair, a tiny bowler hat of sand spun into existence upon his head, and he tipped it. Jack nodded, and took a step back, pushing open the door on Elsa's balcony, stepping into the art gallery.

As the door shut slowly behind them, Jack saw Sandy's eyes widen, looking at the art gallery, the rows upon row of shelves, all lined with the tiny, intricate ice sculptures. Jack laughed softly as he watched the golden thought images form above Sandy's head.

 _Sculpture. Hands. Shepherd's crook. Question mark?_ Sandy pointed to Jack.

"No, I didn't make any of these," Jack replied softly. "Well… I made _one_ , but it's in the other room."

 _Question mark…?_ Sandy then stopped, the image fading, and looked up. With Jack watching, he then floated into the air towards one of the shelves, as if he'd seen something, with a pensive expression on his face.

"Sandy, it's—Sandy, what are you _doing?_ That's not—" Jack's voice trailed off, watching as he floated back down to the floor.

In his tiny pale hand, the Sandman was holding a tall, thin ice statue of a boyish figure in a hoodie. The boy, with unruly hair and a mischievous expression, was leaning onto a shepherd's crook, his eyebrows raised, as if he were about to tell the punchline of a joke.

Jack realized that it was a statue of him.

His breath caught as he carefully took the statue from the Sandman's hands. Then, he looked back up, and realized that Sandy was hovering right in front of him.

 _Question mark? Question mark? QUESTION MARK?!_

Jack startled slightly, then shaking his head and chuckling as he walked over to one of the shelves, putting down the statue. He then beckoned, silently leaping into the air and flying towards the end of the hall. Sandy followed as Jack passed through the door into Elsa's room, stopping at the foot of her bed.

Sandy's eyes widened, seeing the sleeping young woman, and looked back to Jack.

 _Letter E. Letter L. Letter S. Letter A. Crown. Arendelle Fleur. Snowflake. Question mark?_

"Yep. Elsa, Queen of Arendelle," Jack whispered. "You know her?"

 _Snowman. Snowflake. Ice castle. Girl with braid. Capelet dress. Question mark?_

Jack chuckled softly under his breath. "That's Elsa, alright."

Sandy looked back to her, her hair spread out on the pillow, again. Then, he leapt up into the air with sudden excitement, silently clapping his hands and pointing between Jack and Elsa.

 _Snowflake. Snowman. Heart. Hands. Lips. Cupid. Jack. Elsa. Jack kissing Elsa. Jack—_

 _"Whoa,_ Sandy!" Jack whispered suddenly, "It's not—I mean—okay, Elsa and I have known each other for _two days,_ alright? _Relax!"_

Sandy shrugged, floating down and letting his feet rest on the floor again.

Jack pulled in a deep breath. " _Look,"_ he muttered carefully, "I—I'm pretty sure that Elsa just had the worst day of her life, okay? I just wanted to make sure that she has nice enough dreams tonight to allow her to get some rest."

Sandy put his finger to his sharp chin, looking thoughtful. Then, he suddenly raised his eyebrows, grinning enthusiastically, as Jack watched the images forming over his head.

 _Jack and Elsa holding hands. Jack and Elsa kissing. Jack holding Elsa's waist. Jack running his hands down Elsa's—_

 _"—SANDY!"_ Jack hissed, his eyes bulging, " _What th—WHY?"_

The image abruptly burst apart, and Sandy held his stomach, buckling over in silent laughter. Jack groaned, clasping his hands together and touching his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut.

"I spend over _300 years_ in isolation, and _nobody questions it once_ ," he murmured with frustration, "But the instant I show an _ounce_ of interest in a female with ice powers, everyone immediately assumes that I'm some sort of— _!_ Isn't there _something_ you can think of that's a little…um…?"

Jack's voice trailed off, his face pained again. Sandy smirked, forming another sand image above his head. Looking up, Jack startled back in shock, clapping his hand over his eyes and blushing furiously.

" _LESS_ sexual, Sandy!" Jack choked, " _Less_ —yeah, _less_ like _that!_ "

Sandy was holding his stomach again, floating about a foot off the ground, laughing hysterically. Jack shook his head, his ears pink with embarrassment, and let out a bitter, nervous laugh from under his breath.

"Why are you _doing_ this to me?" he groaned, kneading his eyebrows.

Sandy finally looked back up into Jack's pleading eyes and shrugged, shaking his head and smiling good-naturedly. He rolled his hands again, and Jack hesitantly looked up above the Sandman's head as one final image formed.

Two young girls, one with a single braid and one with pigtails, were building a snowman together in the golden sand. Jack let out a sigh of relief.

"Now, _that's_ what I'm talking about," he exhaled. "Thanks, Sandy. I owe you one."

The Sandman laughed again, and gently pushed the dream of the girls and the snowman towards Elsa. As it floated across the room, finally coming to a stop above her head, he then turned back to Jack, the bowler hat reappearing. The Sandman tipped it, and as it spiraled back out of existence, he turned and floated from the room to resume his work over Arendelle.

.

.

Upon occasion, Jack walked into the art gallery or around the room, but for the most part, he kept his vigil next to Elsa.

A few hours had past, but Jack was almost entirely oblivious to it, silently sitting on the edge of Elsa's bed. The sand children had kept playing—Sandy had given her a long, shifting, and lovely dream—but every once in a while, Jack would see the concerned wrinkle beginning to form in the young queen's brow again. Whenever this happened, he would pull an intentionally delicate snowflake from the air and guide it over to land softly on her cheek. She would relax again, and then he would, as well. Every once in a while, a tiny smile would begin to form on her lips.

Jack did love that smile.

"So, _that's_ what you were like as a kid _…_ " he mused quietly, staring at the sand children in the dream. "I knew you had some fun bottled up _somewhere_ inside of you. It's just been buried a bit deep… hasn't it?"

He gently reached up to her face, pushing back another blonde hair onto the pillow. He then shook his head, smiling, as he watched her expression.

"It's okay," he continued softly. "You and I—we're going to dig it up again. That's what I'm good at, remember?"

Elsa didn't respond, sleeping soundly, that same hint of a smile on her lips as the sand children played over her head. Jack shook his head, laughing gently under his breath.

"I really _could_ tell you anything, right now… couldn't I?"

She was still breathing regularly, blissfully oblivious to the outside world. Jack pulled in a deep breath, leaning onto his staff from the edge of her bed.

"I still don't know if I'm in love with you," he started softly, "Because—well, it's only been two days. But you should probably know that I've already decided that you're the most amazing young woman I've ever met. And that's saying something."

He chuckled under his breath.

" _Man_ , this is easier to tell you when you're asleep," he admitted quietly. "I wish it could be this easy when you're awake. I guess that all I really want to say is—well, I'm glad you asked me to stay, because I don't want to leave. I never did, even when you wanted me to. Not without you, anyway."

Jack absent-mindedly spun his staff on the ground again, repositioning himself of the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes.

"And the funniest— _worst_ —part about all of it?" he choked, leaning his forehead against the shepherd's crook, "You _don't even realize_ how incredible you are. Everything you say, everything you do. It's always about Arendelle, or your sister, or—it's never about you. It's always about other people. I mean, it's just—"

Suddenly, there was a loud _whooshing_ sound, and wind started to blow around them in the room. Jack stopped abruptly, leaping to his feet and kicking his staff into his hands. As he saw a spiraling hole of colors begin to form on the side of the room next to Elsa's dresser, his face drained of color. He lowered the staff slightly, realizing what was going on, and kneaded his eyebrows.

" _Seriously?"_ Jack groaned.

The portal spiraled larger and larger, and Jack hastily blew a snowflake towards Elsa, silently begging her to stay asleep as the colors and wind grew stronger. Then, just as the sand children were about to fade completely from the air, breaking the dream, Jack leapt into the air as North stumbled out of the portal into the room.

"JACK FRO— _MMPH!"_

" _Keep it down,_ will you?" Jack hissed, clapping his hand over North's mouth.

He let go, turning around in the air and glancing worriedly back to Elsa. She hadn't woken up. Letting out a sigh of relief, Jack sank back down onto the floor, his toes sinking into the rich carpet again as North raised his eyebrows.

Keeping an eye on Elsa, Jack backed up, gesturing for North to follow him. He did so, as the portal shrank and faded into nothingness again, and Jack silently opened the door to the art gallery. They stepped inside, and North closed the door behind them.

As soon as it clicked shut, Jack spun around, beginning to pace up and down the hallway of the gallery.

"So, what do you think I've done _this_ time?" he exclaimed. "If this is about that stupid thing with the necklace, it was an accident, I _swear—!"_

"Jack—"

"—Or the fact that I was by her bed? I will have you know that Elsa _asked_ me to stay there. So I'm staying."

"Jack—"

"—Or that thing with Sandy! That was _his_ idea, not mine, alright? Is it my fault that he's trying to torture me?"

"JACK, YOU ARE STILL ON NICE LIST," North finally said loudly.

Jack paused, turning around. "Wait—what?"

North chuckled under his breath, his belly shaking. "I am not here to _condemn_ you, Jack Frost," he said, then dropping his voice to a whisper. "I am here to tell you how much more _respect_ I've gained for you since sending you here."

Jack's eyes widened, taking a step back in shock. North shook his head and walked up to him, putting his enormous hand on Jack's shoulder.

"I saw what happened today," North started quietly. "She _chose_ to stop believing in you. And, that you went back to protect her anyway."

There was a moment of silence.

Jack looked down, gripping his staff, as he struggled for words. Finally, staring at the floor, he shook his head, and looked back up. "North," he stammered, "I—"

"—I know." North stepped back, crossing his enormous arms over his chest. " _You_ don't think it's big deal."

"Because it isn't—"

"— _It is."_

Jack sucked in his breath again. Closing his eyes, he opened his mouth to say something, and then abruptly closed it again. North raised his eyebrows, looking into Jack's worried face.

"There is old saying," North said, "That you can tell the strength of a man by how he treats those who cannot give him anything in return."

"Elsa could—"

"— _Only give you more pain,_ from what you thought." North leaned forward, looking intently into Jack's wide eyes. " _You_ took saying a step further. Not only did you help someone that couldn't help you _back_ , but you helped someone who you thought would _actively hurt you_."

" _North_ ," Jack choked, "Elsa was just trying to protect her kingdom. You can't hold that against her."

"I'm _not_ holding it against her. She thought she was doing right thing. But that doesn't change how much pain you were in," North said quietly. "She has no _idea_ how much that hurt you. You were alone for over _three hundred years."_

"My past hasn't really come up."

"From what I have seen, you've been making _sure_ it hasn't," North retorted, raising a bushy eyebrow. "You haven't told her a thing."

"I'm already having _enough_ issues trying to get her to open up, alright?" Jack walked past North, gently pushing open the door into the bedroom and glancing to Elsa. "Guilt-tripping her isn't going to help anything. Or telling her how old I am, for that matter. _She doesn't have to know_ about my past."

The shimmering, golden sand children playing above Elsa's head were now having a snowball fight. Good old Sandy.

North crossed his arms again, leaning against the wall. "Jack… if you want Elsa to open up to _you_ ," he said softly, "It _might_ be a good idea to try opening yourself up to her."

Jack paused again, his eyes widening in slight shock. North was right.

North sighed, reaching into one of his pockets and pulling something out. "I didn't come here to give advice," he said quietly, stepping forward to Jack again. "This is about something else. Here."

North dropped a small, light object into Jack's hand. Jack turned it over, and saw it was a tiny Russian nesting doll, one size bigger than the smallest. Painted blue like the first one that North had given him, Jack realized that it was a painting of himself, holding a shield.

"I've been trying to figure out what next layer should be. The doll for your center is at the Pole," North said quietly. "I should have seen earlier with your sister and with Baby Tooth, but I didn't. Today, I saw side of you that I never recognized before."

Jack looked on the bottom of the wooden doll, turning it over and letting his eyes fall onto North's painted handwriting.

 _GALLANT_


	23. Not a Hummingbird

***AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, everybody! Thank you again for everyone that wrote reviews! I will admit that I've basically memorized each word from all of you by this point-you can't know how much your kind words have meant to me!**

 **Anyhow, I'm writing this note to let you know that school-etc-has started up for me, which means that the time I had in the first couple weeks of this fanfic just disintegrated. I'll do what I can-I can't believe that people are actually reading this and wanting the next chapters; hooray!-but I probably can only get out about a chapter a week from here on out. Just to let you know.**

 **Also, this chapter is another reason this is rated T, for what I can only describe as "extreme innuendo." I had WAY too much fun writing this one. Have a lovely day!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Yeah, like I said... extreme innuendo. ;)**

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 **23: NOT A HUMMINGBIRD**

When Elsa opened her eyes on the following morning, she had felt a wave of disappointment rush over her when she didn't see Jack.

After a moment of sitting straight up in the bed, her covers pulled up tightly over her chest, she slouched back down, leaning against the headboard with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Of _course_ Jack had left. He probably had other things to do, himself, or had gotten bored. Or had other women to visit.

 _Pretty self-flattering to think he'd actually spend the whole night here,_ Elsa scolded herself, looking around the empty room. _He IS Jack Frost, after all. And he probably has a LOT of girlfriends, for all that sweet talk. I should just be grateful that he was gracious enough to stay until I fell asleep…_

Feeling embarrassed at herself as a pang of jealousy hit her in the chest, Elsa sat up again, throwing back the covers and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Reaching over to her nightstand, she delicately picked up the ice rose, still cold and perfect from two nights before. She may or may not have added a bit of her own _non-melting_ magic to it. Whether or not he had gone off to see someone else that evening, she still couldn't bring herself to think of the rose not being there on her nightstand. She was so attached to it, already. It was… well, it was from _Jack Frost, that's_ what it was.

 _Jack. FROST._

Oh, my.

Her inner fangirl dissolving into a helpless fit of giggles, Elsa smiled, her heart swelling as she placed the ice rose back on her nightstand. She hadn't slept so well since… well, _ever_ , she realized as she stood up from the bed, walking towards the window in the last remaining moonlight of pre-dawn and the shimmering colors of the Northern Lights. She'd had the most wonderful dreams…

Maybe the Sandman _was_ really real, just like Jack had said. She'd tried believing it for the night, and apparently, it had worked. She'd have to remember to try it again the next night. At this point, given the events of the last few days, she was willing to believe almost anything.

But for now, it was morning, and Elsa was the queen. Whether or not Jack had left, it was time to get to work.

She closed the curtains, pacing over in the sudden darkness and feeling the dresser for her lamp. Twisting the brass handle, the flame shot up inside of the glass tubing, and she took a step back, seeing her own image in the mirror, her hair loose of her shoulders, her makeup still completely cried off from the night before. After brushing some more violet powder onto her eyelids, she stepped back again, eying her innocent white nightgown.

Elsa looked in the mirror thoughtfully. Today felt like another sheath dress day. She didn't feel like cleavage was a good idea, though—the events of the previous afternoon were still lingering, despite trying everything in her power to push them from her mind. The experience was so surreal… almost like it was a horrible nightmare, that couldn't _possibly_ have actually occurred in real life. Perhaps if she could just pretend that it had never _happened.._. ah, well.

Concentrating, Elsa closed her eyes, and reached to her stomach. She snapped her fingers back, and the nightgown melted instantly, sweeping upwards and disintegrating into the air like so many others she'd made. It seemed cleaner that way, anyhow.

She flicked her hand over her body, forming her standard nearly transparent, icy slip, and then brushed her palms over her sides. A small, crystalline corset appeared, and Elsa, still looking in the mirror, began to work the ice closer and closer on her tiny waist. She and Anna had grown up in corsets, but since Elsa had learned to control her powers, she had discovered that it was much easier to simply build the undergarment, as well as her slip, directly into the dress itself.

Wearing nothing but the corset and the nearly translucent slip, now fused together into one piece, Elsa looked back to the mirror. Today felt like a _green_ dress kind of day, she decided, eying her reflection again and pulling up her hair.

"Hey, Elsa?" The door to the gallery swung open, and Jack Frost, holding her blue dress in his hands, casually walked in, his staff tucked under his arm. "So, I've been trying to figure out how you make this stuff, and I can't understand how tha ** _MOTHEROF—!"_**

 **"—** ** _AIEEEEEEEEEEE!"_**

 ** _"—_** ** _AAAAAAAAUGH!"_**

Elsa threw her hands in front of her, blasting a wall of ice between them as Jack startled back in horror, his eyes bulging, tripping over his staff and falling backwards onto the ground. The ice between them piled up instantaneously, and after a few seconds, her arms still shaking, Elsa found herself staring at a solid glacier dividing the center of her room.

With a quick glance to the mirror, she hastily circled her arms around her head, and a light blue sheet of ice shot out of them, covering her body and fusing itself to the slip and corset. Fully dressed, she spun around to the glacier, blushing furiously.

 **"** ** _KNOCKING!"_** Elsa sputtered, gasping for breath, " _HAVE YOU HEARD OF IT?"_

There was a silence from the other side of the glacier.

Glancing back to the mirror and spinning around to make sure that she was actually covered, Elsa pulled in her breath, her heart still pounding. Swallowing hard, she turned back, beginning to hesitantly creep towards the wall of ice.

"Um… Jack?"

No response.

Elsa's eyes widened.

She gasped, running around to the other side of the glacier and frantically looking into the ice. But he wasn't there. In the faint light, it was then that Elsa looked down and noticed a large something on the floor with her blue former-coronation gown thrown over the top. Seeing a long shepherd's crook sticking from beneath the fabric, she bent down to pick up the edge of the cloth, hesitantly peeking underneath.

Curled up into a ball on the floor, the Youngest Guardian was hugging his knees to his chest, paralyzed with terror and staring determinately into his lap. Elsa bit her lip, pulling the rest of her coronation gown off of him and taking a step back.

"Jack," she stammered, "I—you can look now."

He shook his head, clapping his free hand over his eyes with embarrassment.

"I am," he choked, " _So._ Sorry—"

"—It's fine." Elsa pulled in her breath, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was an accident. But you can get up now."

"First, let's hear you say that you have clothes on."

"I have clothes on."

"And you're not going to ice-blast me?"

"I'm not going to ice-blast you."

He, however, did not look up. With his hoodie still pulled over this head, he continued to nervously hug his knees to his chest, determinately staring at the ground. He rocked back, and then forward again, and Elsa bit her lip.

"Wha-What is it?" she blurted, "What's wrong _now?_ "

Jack slowly pulled off his hood, shakily getting onto his feet and staring at the floor. He shifted uncomfortably, opening his mouth to speak.

"Sque- _AUGCK!"_

Jack startled as voice cracked, clapping his hand over his mouth as his usual baritone suddenly broke into the register of a dog whistle. His eyes bulging, Jack Frost blushed furiously, gripping the staff. Shifting his fingers on it, he then glanced to his feet, clearing his throat to try again.

"You—um—heh," Jack choked. "I—you're pretty."

Elsa's eyes widened.

Jack, shaking his head vigorously, abruptly shoved past her in embarrassment, leaping into the air and bursting through the door into the art gallery. An instant later, the door to the art gallery swung shut with a _slam,_ leaving the young queen standing, frozen, in the center of her bedroom, staring blankly into the air.

… Really?

Drawing her hands into her stomach, Elsa turned around, looking to the art gallery door with wonder. Did he just say—did he really—was it actually true, that _Jack_ thought she wa- _AUGH!_ _ **FOCUS!**_ _FOCUS, FOCUS,_ _ **FOCUS**_ _, YOU_ _ **STUPID**_ _GIRL!_

Jolting, Elsa shook her head, snapping back out of the stupor. She whirled around, running for the door and grasping its handle, throwing it back and rushing inside after him.

At first, running past her desk and into the shelves, she couldn't see him at all. Then, with an eerie, blue glowing coming from the darkness at the end of the long hallway, Elsa saw a lanky silhouette pacing back and forth. He was hitting his forehead against the staff, muttering under his breath with every step.

" _Friends, friends, friends, friends, FRIENDS—"_

"—Jack," Elsa said softly, struggling to control her voice as she paced towards him, "Is—are you okay?"

He suddenly stopped, looking up. Elsa finished walking down the hallway to him, finally coming to a stop a few feet away. Jack laughed nervously, running his fingers through his hair and shaking his head.

"I—um," he stammered, "I—I just wasn't expecting to see— _you_ —um, to see you dressed like that."

"I'm sure," she apologized, "And I'm SO sorry tha—"

"—Oh, don't be _sorry_ ," Jack interrupted, his eyes bulging with delight, "It was _FANTASTIC!"_

The instant the words tumbled out, Jack clapped his hand over his mouth again, stumbling back a step. Pressing the staff against his forehead and gripping it so hard that his knuckles turned white, he then squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth as if he were in pain.

Elsa bit her lip, shifting uncomfortably on her feet.

"Okay—I'm sorry—I just—yeah," Jack choked, "I should—I'm not used to having women as friends. Except—well, maybe except Tooth—but she's kind of—sort of half _hummingbird_ , and what I just saw was—" His voice trailed off, and he awkwardly gestured to Elsa's body, letting out another nervous laugh and biting his fist. _"You're_ —um—that—that's _not_ —that is not a hummingbird."

He buried his face in his hands again, his pale ears crimson with embarrassment.

Elsa pulled in a deep breath, crossing her arms across her chest and struggling to control her voice.

"Thank you for that _enlightening_ medical observation," she enunciated.

Both blushing furiously, the two stood in silence for a few moments, staring at the ground.

Catching it forward from off his arm with both hands, Jack leaned his forehead against the staff again. Then, he hesitantly opened one eye, looking up to Elsa.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"NO."

"Right. Okay."

He gave her quick nod, swallowing hard and running his fingers through his hair. Elsa looked down, fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

"Um," she stammered, "I was—I was kinda wanting to talk to you about that. Actually."

Jack jerked his head up. "About what, now?"

"Our—um—our friendship."

His face fell. Elsa, her mind racing, pulled in a deep breath.

"Don't you think that we've been going a little too… _fast?"_ she choked.

Jack raised his eyebrows, letting out another bark of nervous laughter. "You mean, like me seeing you without clothes on by Day Three?"

"That doesn't count. It was an accident." Elsa folded her arms tighter across her chest. Then, with a new and terrifying thought occurring to her, she snapped her head back up. "At least—it'd _better_ have been an accident—"

 _"—It was!"_

She raised her eyebrows. Jack ran his fingers through his hair again.

"I mean—it _was,"_ he stammered, "But I—it's not like I hadn't _—_ well, it's not that I didn't _enjoy_ it, or—"

"—Please stop talking," Elsa interrupted.

"Um—"

 _"—_ _Now."_

"Okay."

Elsa sighed, glancing to the floor and biting her lip. She closed her eyes, then shaking her head and looking back to him. "But see? That's my point _exactly,"_ she said. "We've hardly even had time to become real friends yet, and then we immediately jumped to kissing. Well—at least I did. I went a little crazy yesterday. I mean, just—well, just in the heat of the moment. You know?"

"And that's too fast?"

"Well— _yes!"_ Elsa exclaimed. "If we kept going at _this_ rate, we'd be married in a week!"

Jack's face lit up. " _Yeah!"_ he stammered eagerly, "And you'd be _pregnant_ in two!"

Elsa jolted.

 _SLAP!_

The blow almost knocked Jack off of his feet, and he stumbled to the side, catching himself on his staff. He then quickly righted himself, gingerly touching his fingers to his face as Elsa lowered her hand and took a step back, blushing furiously.

Jack shook his head, gently massaging his jaw as he looked back up into Elsa's eyes. "Okay," he admitted, "I deserved that."

" _Correct_ , Frost," she gritted.

They stood in silence for a few more moments, staring at each other, unsure of what to do next.

"But—um," Elsa started again, then pausing and pulling in another breath, "I was—I was basically going to ask if—well—yesterday—"

Her voice trailed off. Jack stood up straighter again, tossing his staff into his other hand. "What about yesterday?"

Elsa could feel his expectant gaze on her face. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, fidgeting with her fingers and sucking in her breath.

" _Could we just pretend that it didn't happen?"_ she blurted suddenly.

Jack's eye widened in shock for a moment at the statement. Then, his face broke into a sheepish grin. He leaned onto his staff. "I would _love_ to pretend that yesterday didn't happen. That's a _great_ idea."

"And this morning, too?"

Jack glanced to the left. Then, grimacing slightly, he slowly looked back up to her, the same mischievous little hint of a smile twitching out of the side of his mouth. Elsa's throat hardened with sudden embarrassment again.

She squeezed her eyes shut, setting her jaw. "Basically," she stammered, "You are _never_ going to get that image out of your head… are you?"

He shook his head, laughing nervously again, and then looked up into her eyes. "Not on your _life_ ," he choked.

Elsa bit her lip. "I don't suppose if I _asked_ you to try to forget it, that…?"

He looked back to her, raising his eyebrows.

" _Not. On._ _Your. LIFE,"_ Jack enunciated. "Elsa, if you walked in on _me_ wearing something like that, would you be able to forget it that easily?

"Jack, if I walked in on you wearing something like that, I would have other concerns first."

He snorted, shaking his head. "I guess you have a point there," he muttered, "And I can promise you that I wouldn't be caught _dead_ wearing a—well, one of those—squeezy—waist—thingies—"

Still holding the staff, he awkwardly traced an hourglass in the air with his hands, looking to her helplessly.

"—A corset?" Elsa asked.

"—Chest pusher-upper—"

"—Sounds like a corset—"

 _"—Lung squasher—"_

"—I'm thinking you mean a corset—"

"—Torture device."

"A corset," she said decidedly.

He raised his eyebrows. "I have no idea how women _put up_ with those things," he chuckled bitterly, "Or—you know— _breathe—"_

Elsa shrugged. "We put up with corsets the same way we put up with men."

"How's that?"

 _"_ With _skill."_

He rolled his eyes, snatching up his staff and joining her as she turned and began to walk back to the bedroom. "Speaking of _putting up with men_ ," he said, "How many suitors' audiences do we have today?"

 _"_ _We?"_

"Well—I'm coming with you," Jack said matter-of-factly. "Um… aren't I?"

The Spirit of Winter leaned into his staff again, hopefully gazing into her face. Elsa paused, once again taken aback at the realization as she stared into Jack Frost's brilliant, snowflake-marked eyes.

Her dear friend's brilliant, snowflake-marked eyes.

"Yeah. I mean, yes," Elsa exclaimed, "I—that would be wonderful. Thank you."

He grinned, picking up the staff again. "So, how many guys today? You never actually said."

"Oh! Um, none, actually," Elsa realized. "But I think there are four tomorrow."

"So, we have the whole day to ourselves?"

"Not quite."

They reached the door, and Jack leapt in front of Elsa and pulled it open. She thanked him and walked through, and he followed.

"What's the plan, then?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"After breakfast and the usual kingdom affairs," she informed him, " _You and I_ are going to the Royal Library. We have research to do."

They had now reached her dresser. Elsa flicked her hands behind her, and Jack leapt up into the air as a long capelet appeared, sparkling ice shooting out of the back of her dress and elegantly rolling down her body and out across the floor. She looked in the mirror, pretending not to notice his impressed smile as she began to run her fingers through her hair and pull it into a braid.

"I still have no idea how you do that _fabric_ thing with the frost," he laughed, "It's sort of incredible. And, researching what?"

"Arendelle's child abuse laws."

"Ah. A big old bucket of fun, then."

She finished the braid, running her hand down her hair. Snowflakes and shimmering particles appeared from under her fingers, and she turned back to Jack.

"You don't _have_ to come," she corrected herself, feeling the pang of embarrassment hitting her chest again. "I just thought—"

"—Of _course_ I'm coming, Snowflake." He shook his head, gazing admiringly at the ice crystals in her hair with that same slight smile twitching out of the side of his mouth. "It's important, and I imagine that you could use some help. But, if I come to offer my assistance, _I'm_ going to be the one deciding when you've been working for too long without a break. Deal?"

"Deal."

She raised her eyebrows, beckoning to Jack as she walked towards the door. "Well, _come along then_ , Mr. Frost," Elsa laughed. "If you're going to be a part of the Ice Alliance, it's high time you learned something about running a kingdom."


	24. Politics

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, everybody! Disclaimer: I'm becoming a scientist, and I know absolutely NOTHING about law. Thankfully, because this is Arendelle, I get to make it up. ALSO, I'm PMing a bunch of different people right now; if I'm not getting back to you quickly, it's because I'm losing control of my life, not because I don't adore you. Have a great day!**

.

 **.**

 **24: POLITICS**

After breakfast, Elsa took Jack down a number of hallways twisting and turning through the castle, her heart pounding as she struggled to keep her breathing even. Passing the numerous nobles, servants, representatives, and everyone else that one would usually see in such a place, the Spirit of Winter was invisible to everyone but her, but that didn't make the experience any less intimidating. At any moment, she half-expected to hear some high-ranking official or member of the nobility give a dramatic gasp, followed by a demand to know what official _business_ the strangely-dressed, white-haired young man _had_ , cryptically following the young queen through the castle. At which point, she would have to leap in and try to explain.

And what an explanation _that_ would have to be.

Thankfully, the worst-case scenario confrontation never came, and Elsa was able to continue politely acknowledging all of the customary bows and curtsies and pledges of loyalty to Arendelle without incident, acting as though everything was perfectly normal, regally sweeping through the richly-carpeted halls with the frozen, forced smile of The Queen Face plastered over her features.

At last, coming down a well-kept but silent hallway, Elsa sharply drew in her breath, gripping the cords of her small, velvet bag so hard that her knuckles turned white. The solitary guard at the enormous wooden doors bowed regally, carefully holding his gun pointing straight into the air. Elsa drew herself up.

"I will be requiring some privacy with the records today," she ordered, her hand trembling as she reached into the bag. "P-Please make sure that no one enters the library after me until I give the word."

He nodded. Stepping to the side, he then let Elsa pass by him, pulling a tarnished silver key out of the bag as she stepped up to the doors. Swallowing her heart back down, she closed her eyes, pulling in a long breath.

Elsa stuck the key into the lock.

Readjusting her grip and leaning into it, she pulled it down, turning the key to the side with all her strength. The lock opened with a dull _clunk,_ and the door swung back, revealing an enormous room filled with light.

Pulling the lock back out and drawing herself up again, Elsa regally glanced back to the guard, smiling politely and walking forward and Jack silently leapt into the air, flipping forward over her through the door before the guard reached in to pull it shut.

As Elsa whisked in her capelet from the hallway, the guard nodded, the enormous door creaking on its hinges as it slowly swung back after him.

 _Clunk._

One could always get out of the records library, but it remained locked to the outside at all times. Only a few people—like her—had access to one of the enormous golden keys that would open it.

Without saying a word, Elsa turned and swished her hand across the door. An enormous snowdrift materialized out of the air and swept up against it, and with a dull rumbling resounding through the room, she then raised her arms, pulling a huge wall of ice from the ground. Pushing her hands in front of her, she shoved the wall up against the snowdrift, smashing the snow into the enormous door from the bottom to the top, sealing the cracks.

Elsa took a few steps back and put her hands on her hips, eying her handiwork. She then looked to Jack, and realized that was staring at her with a slightly dazed, glassy-eyed smile again. It was the same look he'd had when she'd pulled ice crystals out of her braid that morning.

She shrugged. "Soundproofing."

Snapping out of the haze, Jack's eyes suddenly came back into focus. He laughed under his breath, shaking his head and looking back up at her. "I know," he said quietly. "It's brilliant."

"Thanks." Elsa blushed slightly, smiling.

After a long moment of staring into each other's eyes, she jolted, spinning around. "Right! Records," Elsa blurted. "Let's see… I think we're in the M's, over here…"

She paced quickly down the long row on the edge of the library, between the grandiose bookshelves and the wall, her sea-green capelet flowing behind her. The library—or rather, the royal records collection—was an enormous room, with a line of large windows around the top of the grand arched ceiling, filled with row after row of towering shelves. All of these shelves were filled with hundreds of years' worth of all the records of Arendelle's doings—and its secrets. Hence, why it was kept locked with a guard. Hence, why Queen Elsa had a key.

"As I recall," she mused, pacing down one of the aisles as Jack flew after her, "Court records are all filed under C, and then organized from there."

" _Court records?"_

Elsa paused and turned to him as he lit down upon the carpet again, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so and slowing down to match her pace.

"What do you mean, _court records?"_ Jack asked, "I thought we were researching the laws themselves."

"In my experience, the law itself is a lot less important than how it's being interpreted and used in court," she replied, taking a few steps back and staring up at the shelves. "I figure that we should start with the last few years of court records, and then we can do more research from there. You know—get an idea if any of the laws are even being _used._ "

"Wait—law is a matter of interpretation?"

Elsa, not seeing what she was looking for, turned away again and ran out to the end of the aisle. "If you can convince the jury that it is, then yes," she explained, taking another step back and staring up at the shelves. They had now crossed to the other side of the library, which opened between a few of the shelves to a large table, flooded with sunlight from an enormous set of high windows in the late morning. "Welcome to the judicial system."

He raised his eyebrows. "I thought that the whole _point_ of a law was that it _couldn't_ be open to interpretation," he scoffed.

"Court is a wars of words," she sighed, "And words can be twisted, if they're not written clearly enough. Which is usually the case, by the time that the politicians get done arguing about them— _Ah!_ There they are!"

Jack looked up as Elsa pointed. On the third row from the top of one of the sets of enormous shelves, and spilling over a few feet into the fourth row, was a large set of navy volumes. The table was now directly behind them, and Elsa ran to the other end of the long shelf, grasping a wheeled ladder and pulling it back. Stopping in front of the row and looking up, Elsa daintily stepped out of her icy high heels, then hiking up her skirt and scrambling up the rungs.

"Let's see," she muttered, running her eyes over the labels as she climbed, _"…Intellectual Property_ _Cases_ … _Immigration Cases… Health Cases…"_

Finally, near the top of the shelf—about 30 feet in the air—Elsa reached the navy volumes. " _Family Cases!"_ she exclaimed, "Ah- _ha!_ I was right!"

Grasping the shelf underneath the ladder, she shoved herself to the side, and the ladder went bumping and rolling down to the end of the aisle. As it hit the end of its wooden track, it jolted to a stop, with Elsa's long, hanging capelet swishing to the side underneath her. She reached for the last of the navy blue books, and then paused, realizing how high up she was. And how large the volume was.

She bit her lip, feeling the edge of the enormous book and glancing down through the ladder at her feet, 30 feet in the air. She usually would have just flicked her fingers and made a slide to send it down, but it was— _fragile_. Elsa gripped the ladder slightly tighter, her throat hardening with embarrassment.

"Could you use some assistance, ma'am?"

Elsa snapped her head up, looking beside her. With a slight smirk on his face, Jack Frost was suddenly floating cross-legged in the air next to her.

Feeling blood rushing to her cheeks, Elsa adjusted her grip on the ladder. She smiled sheepishly in spite of herself. " _Show off_ ," she mumbled. Jack grinned.

"Seriously, though," he laughed, "Do you want to hand something to me?"

"Are you sure? They're super heavy. And fragile."

He rolled his eyes. "They're _books,_ Elsa," he chuckled. "I'm pretty sure I can handle th _OH!"_

As Elsa pushed the enormous volume off the shelf and into his outstretched arms, Jack's body lurched forward from the sudden weight, dropping five feet in the air. Catching his breath, he then righted himself, pulling it up and hovering back to Elsa's eye-level again.

She giggled, covering her mouth with her free hand while gripping the ladder with the other. "I _told_ you it was heavy!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, but not heavier than _you!"_ Jack readjusted his grip on the book, his staff tucked under his arm. "What is this _printed_ on, _lead?"_

"I'm _certain_ that isn't heavier than me," Elsa retorted. "It's just parchment."

" _Lead… parchment…"_ he muttered, turning away from her and flying down to the table.

Elsa pulled another volume out onto the edge of the shelf. Jack was back up in a few moments, holding out his arms again. This time, he had braced himself, his eyes narrowed with determination. She restrained from laughing, seeing the intensity in his expression. Jack Frost was no weakling, but in terms of upper-body strength, he wasn't exactly Kristoff, either.

Pushing the second book off, he caught it, this time only dropping a few inches, but still clearly straining. Elsa said nothing, smiling quietly to herself and looking down, feeling for the rungs of the ladder and beginning to descend.

Jack had placed both of the books on the enormous oak table in the opening between the shelves. As she stepped off the ladder, not bothering to put her shoes back on, he looked up into her eyes, leaning onto the wood.

"So…?" he prompted, "Now, we're trying to find… what, exactly?"

"We're trying to find references to child abuse laws," Elsa said, pulling out a chair from underneath the table. Watching her intently, Jack did likewise. "If we see any patterns in the court records, we'll know which ones are being used the most. Or if they're being used at all. Well—recently, anyway."

"How do you mean?"

"Every year, all the transcripts of each category of court proceedings are gathered and bound into a new volume of these books," she explained, grasping one of the volumes and pulling it towards herself on the table. She sat down on the chair, smoothing her dress and capelet underneath her as she did so. "We just pulled the volumes for last year and the year before. You can do last year's, if you like. Start close to the present, and work backwards."

Jack was looking at the enormous volume, staring blankly forward, a slightly worried expression on his face. "Um… so we just… start looking, or…?"

Elsa looked up at him, raising her eyebrows. Then, she shook her head, getting onto her feet again and reaching for his volume, a mischievous smile twitching out of the side of her mouth.

"Oh, yes—that's _right_ ," Elsa said slyly, pulling the book towards herself and heaving it into her arms. "You don't _know_ each other!"

"Wait, what?"

Elsa turned to the book, beaming. "Let's see… _Arendelle Family Law Court Records Volume 284_ , meet Jack Frost. Jack," she said, looking back to him, " _Politics."_

And she slammed the volume down onto the table.

 _WHAM._

Jack's face drained of color. After a few moments of horrified silence, he slowly looked back up into her eyes, pointing to the text.

"I have to search through all of this?" he squeaked.

"Oh, don't be _silly,_ Jack!" Elsa chuckled, gesturing to the enormous wall of books behind her. " _Those too."_

His eyes widened. Looking deflated, Elsa watched as he then slowly opened the cover, grasping all of the pages into a chunk in his right hand, and flipping to the back. A look of confusion swept over his face, and he then jerked his head back up, looking to her. "Wait. Where's the index?"

"Chronological order, darling. No index."

" _What?"_

"Jack, these are _court transcripts,"_ she explained, sitting down across from him with the other enormous volume. "But there _should_ be a table of contents, with the name of each prosecution and defense."

"Wow," he scoffed. "That is _breathtakingly_ unhelpful."

"Welcome to the judicial system."

"I'm sensing a pattern here."

"You're not the first." Elsa sighed, opening her own book and flipping to the first case. " _Start. Reading."_

Jack bit his lip, looking back to the text. Then, defeated, he pushed all the pages back to the other side of the book, going to the beginning and resting his face on his hand.

"Just so you know," he grumbled, "I am the best friend _ever."_

"I had a hunch you might be."

.

.

.

 _"Gaaaaaaaurgh."_

Elsa looked up. A great deal of time had passed, and Jack, his face slipping down from his hand, slowly turned a page of the text.

"What is it, Jack?" she asked.

"My _braaaaaain_ ," he groaned. "I think it's disintegrating."

"Well, if you aren't used to long reading—"

"—It's _not_ the reading," he scoffed, sitting up. He looked into Elsa's face. "The reading is fine. I have no issues with long reading. It's just the _people."_

 _"_ What about them?"

"They're… _idiots_." Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and kneading his eyebrows. "I've never read a book before where _every. Single. Character._ Was an idiot..."

"Oh, come on," Elsa retorted, "That's not true. It's just that court has a tendency to bring out the worst in—"

 _"—EVERYONE IN THIS BOOK IS AN IDIOT, ELSA!"_

" _Watch yourself_ , Frost!" she chuckled threateningly, " _I'm_ in that book!"

"REALLY? An intelligent person? A _single voice of sanity?"_ he sputtered, flipping forward through the pages. "Well, in THAT case, let's go straight to that part!"

"Well—alright, maybe not _that_ book," Elsa admitted. "That's _last_ year's volume. I wasn't crowned queen yet. But I'll be in the _next_ volume."

Jack bit his lip. Then, opening his mouth to say something, he looked to the book, and to Elsa, and then back to the book _._

"I—!"

His voice trailed off. Elsa watched as his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed forward, slamming his forehead against the table.

 _BANG._

"Oh, just be _patient_ ," Elsa continued, struggling to keep a straight face, "If you'll just wait until the end of January, they'll compile this year's records, and you'll have another _brand new volume_ to explore! Just _think_ of all the _exciting_ reading that—"

 _BANG. BANG. BANG._

"Oh, come now, Jack. It's not _that_ bad."

 _BANG._ He stopped, slowly looking up to Elsa and raising his eyebrows. He then let out a sharp bark of bitter laughter, shaking his head.

"These people have been arguing for the _last 14 pages,"_ he groaned. "About a _cow."_

Elsa turned another page, not looking up. "Oh, yes—I vaguely remember hearing about that one," she mused, "It was pretty early in the year, like February or something, right? Who got it?"

His hand slapped down on top of the column where she was reading. Looking up, Elsa found herself staring into his strikingly blue eyes, hardly an inch from her own, as he hovered over the table.

" _It. Died. Sixty. YEARS AGO,"_ he enunciated.

She burst out laughing, seeing the intensity in Jack's expression. " _Oh,_ that's _right! Divorce court!"_ she exclaimed. "My _favorite_ part of the entire legal system."

"Really?"

"No."

"Good. I was worried." He flipped upside-down in the air, casually staring at her from above the table with his white hair hanging down in front of her face. "And finish whatever sentence you're on, because we're taking a break."

She looked towards the sun in the enormous windows above them, eying its position and doing a quick calculation in her head. "We've hardly been at this for three hours, Jack!"

He raised an eyebrow, beginning to pull the book away from her across the table. "Elsa, can you please take a moment to _think_ about that statement?"

"Three hours of research is _nothing_ ," she protested, grabbing the volume back and pulling it towards herself. "I mean, I haven't even _found_ anything relevant yet, and—"

"—That would be a reflection of the _lack of relevant material_ , not our lack of work," he retorted. "Come _on_ , Elsa. We had a deal."

"Just a few more minutes! I promise!"

Jack rolled his eyes, darting up into the air, and Elsa shook her head, turning back to the page she was on and finding her place again. Just as she was reaching her hand forward onto the column, a sudden gust of cold wind rushed past her, blowing all the pages to the side. She snapped her head up, groaning in frustration.

" _JACK!"_ Elsa protested, "What are you— _EEK!"_

 _FWOOM!_

Her chair suddenly blasted backwards, and Elsa squeaked in shock, gasping and instinctively grabbing its arms as it shot across the ice-covered carpet. Just before it hit the wall, the chair crashed into a pile of soft snow and crunched to a halt.

Jerking her head up, she saw Jack Frost standing casually on the table, grinning. Tossing his staff into his other hand, he laughed, leaping down onto the icy floor.

"A deal's a _deal_ , Snowflake," he chuckled as he walked towards her. "And I'm not letting you back out of it."

Elsa scoffed, shaking her head as she pushed herself up out of the chair. "Then what do you expect me to _do?"_

"First," he retorted, that same sly little hint of a smile twitching out of the side of his mouth, "I'd recommend making yourself some ammo."

Elsa's breath caught as the Guardian of Fun flipped his hand over, revealing a snowball materializing in his palm. Looking to her mischievously, he then bent down and blew across it, setting the ice particles aglow with sparkling blue magic as he peered up at her through his eyelashes, tossing it playfully in his hand.

"Oh, you are _so_ on," Elsa breathed, beginning to roll her hands in the air.


	25. A Blizzard in the Library

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, I don't think I did as well as I wanted to, but BAM, ATTEMPT NUMBER ONE AT THE GRE [science] SUBJECT TEST IS DONE, AND I DID BETTER THAN I EXPECTED! I've been studying for about a year and a half for that sucker, and now, I know more of what I need to focus on between now and October's exam. Sorry I didn't get anything posted sooner! Also, action is— _difficult_ —to write. I hope this came off okay. Let me know in the reviews, and thanks again for reading! I love you all, and I hope yer havin a spectacular day!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo, hooray!**

.

 **.**

 **25: A BLIZZARD IN THE LIBRARY (AKA, _The Obligatory Snowball Fight Chapter_ )**

Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter, watching the enormous ball of sparkling ice particles forming over Elsa's head. He grinned, raising a single eyebrow at her flirtatiously. "You're really into the _ginormous snowball_ thing, aren't you?"

"Oh, I am _so sorry,"_ she retorted, sweeping more layers of frost onto its surface and holding it up. "Not creative enough?"

"Naw. It's just funny," he chuckled, tossing his much smaller snowball in his hand. "You've got a signature snowball fight technique. But, of course, that opens you up to attacks like—well, like this."

He wheeled around and flung his sparkling snowball at her shoulder. She let out a little shriek and leapt to the side as it grazed her, but then slipped on the ice, falling into the snowdrift behind. As she jerked her hands down to catch herself, she let go of her enormous snowball, and it dropped on top of her, crushing her into the snow again.

Struggling out of the snowdrift and yanking her skirt back into place, Elsa gasped for breath, stumbling onto her feet and looking back to Jack. He was laughing, crouching on top of his staff.

"And _that,"_ he chuckled, "Is the _downside_ of having a signature move."

Elsa rolled her eyes, brushing a few stray flurries off of her skirt and shaking her head. "So, I need to think of something more original?" she asked.

He raised his eyebrows, forming another snowball in his hand. " _Never_ underestimate the element of surprise."

"Like this?"

A sly smile twitched out of the side of Elsa's mouth, and she daintily swept her left hand forward in his direction.

But nothing seemed to happen.

A look of confusion swept across Jack's face as he readjusted himself on the staff.

"Like wha— _AUGH!"_

Elsa giggled as the end of his staff slipped on the tiny patch of ice that she'd formed underneath it. Jack fell down, crashing into the table. She gasped, running forward.

 _"Are you okay?"_

Jack laughed, righting himself and snatching up the staff. "Relax, Snowflake. I'm fine."

"I—I w-wasn't trying to make you fall," she stammered frantically, "I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as you're _going_ to be," he said slyly.

Before she could respond, Jack suddenly leapt forward, scooping her up and shooting into the air. Elsa squeaked in shock, gasping and throwing her arms around his neck as they rocketed upwards, and in a few moments, the Spirit of Winter was gently setting her down on the high-up edge of one of the enormous bookshelves, almost touching the vaulted ceiling.

 _"_ _JACK!"_ she choked as he pulled his arms away, "What are—why did— _!"_

Elsa's voice trailed off, and she scooted backwards, bumping into the spines of the books behind her. Jack instinctively leapt forward to catch her, letting out a nervous laugh and backing away in the air as she steadied herself by the books.

"Oh," he shrugged, "Just figured it was a good place to put you. For safe keeping."

" _Safe keeping?!"_

"The way _I_ see it," he said matter-of-factly, drawing himself up in the air, "The typical snowball fight is won by determining what player hits the others the most times."

Elsa shifted her hips on the shelf. "Yes. So?"

"Well, don't you think that's too _easy?"_ he laughed. "I mean—come _on,_ Snowflake. We can do better than that."

"What did you have in mind?"

Jack Frost shrugged again, blowing a clump of white hair out of his face. Flipping the staff over his wrist, he then sat down on it in the air, looking to Elsa mischievously.

"How about—let's see," he mused, "Either—first one to get hit three times, _or_ to be _completely_ covered in snow?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You would _drop a snowdrift_ on me?!"

"Of course not, m'lady."

He grinned wryly, snatching the staff out from underneath himself and flying forward to her in the air. Elsa raised her eyebrows as he picked up her hand, bringing it to his lips.

"I would drop you _into_ it," Jack said.

Elsa jerked her hand away. "You're _such_ a gentleman," she scoffed.

"I know." Jack grinned again, backing up in the air with a shrug. "Which is why I'm going to let you lose _gracefully."_

Elsa's mouth fell open as he laughed, flipping backwards into the air and tumbling towards the ground. Jolting to a stop, a few rogue snowflakes dancing around him from the sudden gust of wind, Elsa watched as Jack Frost swung the shepherd's crook beneath his feet, a blanket of sparkling snow materializing out of the air behind it and falling softly towards the ground.

" _Why are you so sure I'm going to lose?"_ Elsa called out to him from the ledge.

He paused. Spinning back around to face her in the air, Jack looked to Elsa flirtatiously.

"Because I've got a reputation to keep up, _ma'am,"_ he teased, darting up to her in the air again and stopping in front of the ledge. "Snowball-fight-wise, I will have you know that I am _currently_ undefeated."

"As am I."

"You _could_ just give up now. Save time," he chuckled, shooting upwards again. _"_ I'm the _Spirit of Winter,_ sweetheart!"

As her mouth fell open again, he laughed, spinning around in the air and shooting up into the skylight. Her heart skipping a beat as she watched him swing the shepherd's crook over his head, an indoor stormcloud whirling into existence over the glass, Elsa bit the edge of her lip. Looking back down and narrowing her eyes in concentration, she swept her hands out in front of her, a long, fluffy slope of frost materializing from the ledge and rolling towards the floor.

 _Whoosh!_

A hint of a smirk on her mouth, she looked back up to the boy in the skylight.

"And _I'm_ the _Snow Queen!"_

 _CREAK!_

The slide froze as Elsa pushed herself off the ledge, plummeting down the slick ice in a gust of wind. Turning around to the ledge to respond, Jack startled, his mouth falling open in shock as he saw the slide, and Elsa getting up off the ground at the bottom of it.

Elsa gasped and scrambled onto her feet, hiking her skirt up to her knees and taking off into a run.

A gust of icy wind tore past her, and Elsa gasped as he suddenly dropped out of the air in front of her onto the carpet. Jack laughed, holding out his arms to catch her, and she skidded to a stop, backing up a pace and whirling around to run in the other direction. Yanking her capelet out of the way, Elsa had hardly made it three steps before there was another gust of wind, and Jack Frost was tumbling down in front of her again, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

Elsa smiled in embarrassment, letting out her breath and sheepishly walking towards him. Jack grinned slyly, tossing his staff into his other hand.

"Surrendering _already_ , your highness?" he teased. "I would have expected more of a _queen_."

She let out a nervous laugh, fidgeting with her fingers as she felt blood rushing to her face. Opening her mouth to respond, the Snow Queen looked down to realize that Jack was holding his staff loosely in his hand, only watching her face.

Drawing herself back up, Elsa then suddenly clasped her hands behind her back and walked up to him. As she stood up on her tiptoes and leaned over his narrow shoulder, she heard the Spirit of Winter's breath catch, his entire body going rigid.

"You're right," Elsa whispered into his ear, restraining from a laugh as she slowly began to reach down towards his hand. "You _should_ have expected more of a queen."

Elsa suddenly snatched the staff out of his hand, spinning around and taking off into a run.

 _"HEY!"_

Elsa giggled as Jack sprinted after her between the towering bookcases. After a few moments, she looked back, her eyes widening as she realized that he was only about ten feet away.

And gaining.

She gasped, turning back and hiking up her skirt a little farther with her free hand, pushing herself to go faster as Jack reached forward and tried to grasp at the flapping end of her capelet, struggling to catch it as it billowed after her through the air. Elsa abruptly skidded across the carpet, turning down into one of the long aisles between the shelves. As she did so, she looked back and realized that Jack was right behind her again.

She gasped, whipping back around and running harder, and—

 _YANK!_

Elsa squeaked in shock as the staff went flying out of her hand, sailing across the carpet. Pulling in a quick gasp for breath, she tried to run again, only to feel herself be jerked back by her capelet.

"HA!" Jack laughed as she stumbled, forcing her to slow almost to a stop. "CAUGHT you, Snowflake!"

Her heart pounding, Elsa abruptly spun around, pulling her fingers over the capelet.

 _Shhhhhhhink!_ It instantly disintegrated along the line that she'd drawn, and she gave a little jump, shaking the last of it from her dress. She then whipped around continued running as the icy fabric billowed back through the air straight into Jack's face. He yelped in surprise, and she laughed as she whipped around again, tearing down a path through a different aisle of shelves.

 _Zing!_

Elsa felt the chill of a snowball rushing past her shoulder. She shrieked, leaping to the side and spinning around again, shooting a messy clump of ice at him. He laughed, falling forward into a roll on the floor as it sailed over his body, then scrambling to his feet and taking off after her again.

Elsa broke out of the shelves, rounding the edge of the bookcase and sprinting forward into the open part of the room with the table again. Another clump of slush zinged past her ear, this time on the other side, and she jumped back from it with a squeak, spinning back to face him. He was grinning triumphantly, his staff in his hand once again. He flipped forward in the air, laughing and easily dodging her poorly-aimed shower of ice particles. Elsa ducked as he threw an enormous snowball at her, which went sailing over her head, and she threw her hands out in front of her, countering with another stream of ice. Jack jumped into the air, barely missing the blast as it flew past him, hitting the wall of books. He then ran forward on the table, leaping off of it onto the floor and slamming his staff on the ground.

 _FOOM!_

A thick cloud of snow billowed back through the room, engulfing everything in sight.

The cold wind of the instant blizzard in the library rushed through Elsa's dress and blew back her braid as the snow swirled and danced through the air, finally leaving them in a haze as it began to settle onto the books and shelves. Elsa rushed forward, hiking up her skirt and crawling onto the table, throwing her arms in front of her. She could build herself a fort before the haze cleared. Or, at least, she could get a good head start.

She ran up her new stairs from off the table, the fluffy snow hardening in clear ice as she ascended, her arms in front of her, eyes narrowed with concentration. She felt so— _light._ It was wonderful.

It was _fun._

She finally reached the top of the enormous bookcase by the Family Law legal records, and swirled her right arm in a circle, creating a frosty disc stretching out from the shelf. As she stepped down onto it with her bare foot, it hardened as well, and she rushed forward onto it, hastily pulling up walls around its edges and further securing the platform to the shelving behind it. She was now 25 feet up in the air, her tiny ice structure stretching out from the bookcase over Jack's enormous snowdrift, surrounding her with thick, short walls, built of ice.

Gasping for breath, Elsa crouched down, bracing herself as she peered out of her icy fort. The snow was settled now from his blinding cloud of frost, but Jack was nowhere to be seen.

Poised and ready, Elsa kept one eyeball on the floor of the library, silently swirling a snowball into existence with her left hand. She put it down, and then swirled another, placing it beside the first. Before he came back, she could probably make a fairly decent pile of ammunition.

 _Surprise?_ She thought, giggling softly. _Oh, Jack Frost, you don't even know the MEANING of the word, until you've seen my—_

"—Bit of advice, your highness," a voice suddenly chuckled behind her. "Next time you're battling an enemy that can fly, you might want to build your fort with a _roof_."

Elsa whipped around and screamed.

As Jack leapt forward, she lunged to the side, knocking his staff out of his hand again. He caught the wall before he hit it, pushing himself back up as she scrambled to her feet, and before Elsa could react, he grabbed her arm, playfully spinning her around. She whipped back to face him, giggling and struggling as he laughed, scuffling on the ice by the short wall.

Reaching back and grasping the wall's edge, Elsa suddenly twisted out of his grasp, flinging her arm back towards him and blasting him back in a wall of snow. As Jack lost his footing, crying out in shock as he was knocked back onto the icy floor, she leapt up and shoved herself away from the wall, running leaping onto the stair railing with a laugh and sliding to the ground of the library.

Sliding off the end and stumbling onto her feet again, Elsa ran forward, rounding the corner of the first bookshelf and whipping into the aisle behind it, her mind racing. Jack was too fast. And just as powerful as she was. And she was losing energy. The only way to potentially beat him was to distract him, and if she could _distract_ him, then—

The idea hitting her all at once as she reached the end of the aisle, Elsa sucked in her breath, spinning around. Planting her feet, she looked up and down the long stretch of carpet, biting her lip in concentration as she decided on the design.

" _DANGIT,_ SNOWFLAKE!" Jack's voice was suddenly laughing as she threw her arms into the air, "YOU ARE _NOT_ GETTING AWAY FROM ME AGAIN! I KNOW I SAW YOU RUN BACK—UH—"

 _RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE._

His voice was drained out as dozens of walls of solid ice erupted out of the carpet, shooting up towards the ceiling in-between the towering bookshelves in twists and turns and curves, his view of her blocked by a gigantic, crystalline maze.

The walls of ice slammed into the top of the library with a resounding _boom._

Pressing herself against the nearest wall, Elsa looked up to see a fine cloud of sparkling frost billowing out from the rafters above her as a blanket of silence fell over the Royal Records Collection once again. After a few moments passed, she heard the sound of Jack Frost's voice echoing from somewhere within the icy maze.

"Now, where did you go?" he muttered.

Elsa jumped, spinning around. Carefully bending down and picking up the edge of her skirt, she pulled in her breath, silently running around one of the icy walls and away from the sound.

"You can't hide from me _forever,_ Snowflake!" Jack's voice teased again. "I mean… come on. We _both_ know that you're gonna _miss_ me…"

Elsa restrained from a laugh, silently rolling her eyes. Oh, Jack. Oh, snarky, _ridiculous_ Jack...

Pressing herself against the bookshelf behind the wall of ice, she cupped her left hand in front of herself at waist level, silently swirling her right hand over it. A perfect snowball materialized in her grasp, and she tossed it to herself, feeling its weight.

"Come _onnnnnn,_ Snowflake… don't I at least get a _hint?"_

He was getting closer.

Elsa's heart started pounding, and she held her breath, biting down hard on her lip and determinately fighting against the fit of giggles building up in her chest. A _snowball fight._ How long at it been, since she'd had a _snowball fight?_ Too long. It wasn't exactly a _regal_ feeling, or a sophisticated one, but—but maybe it didn't have to be. Here, hiding behind a wall of ice, holding her snowball at the ready, she didn't feel like the Queen. She felt—what _was_ this feeling?

It was like the way she used to feel with Anna, before she realized that Anna could get hurt. And while she was still being careful not to hurt Jack, just knowing that it was less likely, just knowing that she didn't have to _restrain_ all the time, that he could match her strength, that she could just release, and let it go, and have fun, and— _!_

An expression of wonder crept over the Snow Queen's face as she slowly looked down to the snowball in her hand.

So this was joy.

"THERE you are!"

Elsa shrieked in shock, whipping around and flinging her snowball as Jack suddenly leapt forward at her by the wall of ice. As it flew past him, making him jump to the side, she picked up the edge of her skirt and ran.

The cold wind rushing past her as she sprinted down the aisle between the towering bookshelves, running through her labyrinth of ice walls, Elsa could feel the air ripping at what was left of her capelet, the rush filling her soul again. Joy. It was— _joy?_

Rounding another corner, Elsa looked up to feel a the cold wind sweep past her. Flurries of snow upon it, it was then suddenly gathering, condensing an enormous, soft snowbank at the end of the aisle in front of her, the pile materializing out of the air and blocking off the end of her path. It—was he— _!_

Elsa spun around and gasped.

The air knocked from her lungs, she was suddenly flying backwards as Jack tackled her, sending them both crashing into the enormous snowdrift. She let out a giggle of shock and started to roll to the side, but before she could do so, he leapt forward and grabbed the edge of her capelet, yanking her back. She squeaked in protest as she fell, struggling to sit up again, and Jack laughed triumphantly, catching her wrists and slamming her back down into the snow.

 _"_ _GOTCHA!"_

Her heart pounding, Elsa's eyes widened as she stared up at him, her chest quickly rising up and down as she gasped for breath. Pinning her down, Jack swung his leg over her, laughing and laughing again as…

His voice trailed off.

Still holding her down in the snow, Elsa watched as Jack's eyes flickered down to her dress, his mouth falling slightly open in shock. After a few moments, he shifted on his knee, his cheeks flushing.

He looked back up into her eyes.

"Uh…" Jack breathed. "Hey."

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

"H-hello," she quavered.

He smiled sheepishly, readjusting his grip on her wrists and shifting on his knee again. Gazing down at her, the Spirit of Winter's eyes went glassy, his usually piercing gaze softening as he held her down in the snow.

Elsa shakily pulled in her breath.

"Um… Jack?" she squeaked.

He jolted slightly, his eyes snapping into focus. Then, his expression shifted back again, a half-vacant, dreamy smile spreading across his features.

"Yeah?" he whispered.

Elsa glanced down. She then pulled in another breath, nervously looking back up into his face.

"You're on top of me."

" _Oh!"_

Jack jumped, abruptly releasing Elsa's wrists and scrambling off her legs. Leaping onto his feet, he spun around to help her up, blushing furiously and letting out a self-conscious laugh. "Right—sorry— _!"_

Elsa took his outstretched hand, letting him help pull her onto her feet. As soon as she stood up, she began to sink back into the soft snow, and Jack laughed nervously again, reaching out his foot and flicking the powder with his toe. It hardened instantly into ice, and Elsa stepped up onto the solid stair, daintily picking up the edge of her dress and walking out onto what was now the last remaining exposed clump of carpet.

As she pulled her hand back out of Jack's, he dropped his arm to his side, stepping away from her. Straightening her dress, she turned to face him.

"That magic of yours really _is_ something," Elsa laughed breathlessly. "I—I haven't really just let everything _go_ like that since—ever."

"Magic?" Jack asked.

A wave of confusion swept over her face. "Well— _yeah!"_ she stammered, "When—when you hit me with some fun magic at the beginning. The first snowball. Right?"

"Elsa, I didn't _put_ any magic into that snowball."

Her eyes widened.

"You—you _didn't?_ " Elsa breathed.

He shook his head, sticking his hands into his front pocket. "Not a bit," Jack laughed, walking towards her. "I just made it sparkle a bit, so you'd _think_ that I did. That was _all you,_ Snowflake."

Elsa's mouth fell open in shock. As blood rushed to her face, Jack stepped up to her, laughing good-naturedly at her expression.

" _You. Like. Having. Fun_ ," he enunciated, brushing a hair out of her face as she looked up. "Now—if you'll excuse me—I kind of need to go find my staff."


	26. Centered

**(LONG) AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just wanted to stick a quick note of thanks here to a specific guest reviewer that I can't contact. Oh my goodness, thank you SO MUCH for pointing out that thing with the "giggling" to me! I actually thought I had already taken that out—apparently, I didn't publish the right version of the last chapter! (OOPS!) And no, I'm not offended at ALL. I totally get the importance of switching up word choice—that's what keeps the flow of the writing correct; use a word too much and you draw attention to it. In this case especially, the excessive use of the word "giggling" on the last chapter even managed to change the intended meaning.**

 **What I Was Trying To Convey: "Elsa's having a ton of fun right now!"**

 **What Actually Was Conveyed: "DANGIT, JACK! DID YOU OVERDOSE THE QUEEN AGAIN?!"**

 **Anyhoo. Thank you SO MUCH for pointing that out to me so that I could try to fix it! See, everybody— _THIS IS PART OF WHY REVIEWS ARE SO IMPORTANT._ While I love love LOVE the reviews that are simply compliments ("QUICK! EVERYBODY TELL ME HOW WONDERFUL I AM!") and get a lot of motivation to keep writing from them, I will often make major mistakes—and this kind of constructive feedback helps me to catch them. So, _please_ review— _especially_ if you think there's some sort of problem; you're probably right. Thanks for bearing with me through this long note, and I hope you have a fantabulous day!)**

.

 **.**

 **26: CENTERED**

As the Spirit of Winter whirled around, sticking his hands into his front pocket as he walked back towards the ice fort, Elsa stumbled back a step, her head spinning. She'd just had a snowball fight. In the _library._ And against _Jack Frost_.

 _Jack. FROST._

Oh, wow.

Elsa clapped her hand to her forehead, the realization hitting her all at once as she watched the white-haired Spirit of Winter bounding up the icy stairs, their slick, slightly-melted surfaces refreezing under his feet as he ran. That was— _amazing._ For the fifty thousand times that she'd fantasized about such a snowball fight, through her late childhood and early teenage years, the real thing was somehow even _better_ than her treasured snowy daydreams. With Jack Frost himself, it seemed, _everything_ became more fun. Even getting caught.

 _Especially_ getting caught…

Shaking her head vigorously, Elsa jolted back into focus. Pulling in her breath, she looked up, suddenly realizing with horror that library was completely buried. Her stomach twisting preemptively, she drew herself up, fidgeting with her fingers as she followed after him to inspect the damage.

Stepping out from behind the end of the last bookcase, Elsa came forward into the sunlight, her gaze falling onto the piles of snow, the blasts of ice covering the tables and floor, and the icicles hanging from the bookshelves. It was a mess.

All of a sudden, Jack dropped out of the air in front of her, and she startled backwards with a squeak of shock.

"Fight's over, Snowflake," he laughed, letting his staff fall back onto his shoulder. "Don't be so nervous."

"I am _not_ nervous," she retorted. "You just caught me off-guard."

He grinned, raising an eyebrow as Elsa put her hands on her hips. "I'm good at that."

"And the Snow Queen can match you."

"Unless…"

Jack's voice trailed off.

Elsa felt a gust of cold air, a faint sparkling in her peripheral vision. Realizing what he was doing, she gasped and leapt away from him, spinning around and materializing a snowball into her hand.

Each threateningly pulling back a snowball, Jack and Elsa stared at each other, frozen in their places.

After a few moments, Elsa saw a hint of a smile begin to tug at the side of Jack's mouth. Struggling not to break eye contact herself, glaring at him as menacingly as she could, Elsa bit her lip, starting to smile as well.

With a loud snort, Jack Frost suddenly burst out laughing, dropping his head forward and looking to Elsa with a sheepish grin. Relaxing her grip, she started laughing as well, her heart leaping as Jack shrugged, tossing his snowball to the side and walking towards her.

"Truce?" he offered.

Elsa raised her eyebrows, looking down to his outstretched hand. Letting out her breath, she shrugged, dropping her snowball as well and stepping forward.

"Truce," she agreed.

They clasped hands, and Jack grinned, giving her fingers a squeeze before letting go. Pulling in her breath, Elsa drew herself up, looking back to the shelves.

"Well— _one_ thing's for certain," she said, glancing back to the table. "We certainly did quite a number on this library."

Jack raised his eyebrows, turning around and looking to their handiwork as well. It was an understatement, to say the least. All around them in the center of the library, the table, books, chairs, and carpet were buried underneath a thick layer of snow, blasts of ice protruding from every exposed surface and glinting in the sunlight that poured down upon them from the skylight above. Looking down, Elsa realized that all of the few exposed patches of carpet that had somehow remained visible were frozen solid, and that, from all outward appearances, that the towering bookshelves around them were not as much being held up by their own construction as much as they were being held up by the solid ice now encasing them.

"You _do_ of course realize that we've got to clean this up," she sighed.

"What are you _talking_ about?" Jack chuckled. _"_ _I_ think we kind of improved it."

Elsa scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. Seeing the icicles again, the colors of the sunlight catching their spiked edges and setting them sparkling, she bit her lip.

Elsa suddenly felt a pang of horror hit her as she looked to the enormous snowdrift hill piled up against the bookcases.

"My shoes are somewhere in there, you know."

A look of confusion swept across Jack's face.

"Um…" he asked slowly, "Your… shoes?"

"I just noticed that I wasn't wearing them," Elsa stammered, "I—I took them off to climb up the ladder. And I don't know where they are in that snowbank, so I can't melt it without destroying them."

"Can't you just make new ones?"

"These were from my coronation. They're special to me," she admitted. "And, besides. I _like_ my heels. They make me taller."

Jack raised his eyebrows, a hint of a teasing smile twitching out of the side of his mouth.

"Seriously?" he chuckled.

She stared at him in puzzlement. " _What?"_ she demanded, "What's so funny?"

"We just created a small-scale _blizzard_ in the Royal Library, and you're worried about your _shoes?"_

Elsa felt her throat tighten with embarrassment, and she looked down, fidgeting with her skirt.

"I—um," she choked, "I really like those shoes."

There was a moment of silence.

Slapping his palm over his eyes, Jack burst out laughing, shaking his head. " _Mother_ of North," he groaned, grinning up at her as he pulled his hand down his face, "I am _never_ going to understand women."

"Do not insult the shoes."

"They're _shoes."_

"They are _amazing_ shoes."

Jack rolled his eyes, taking a few steps back. " _Alright_ , alright," he chuckled, "We can find them. You said they were by the ladder?"

"Somewhere around there. But it would be more towards the middle."

He tossed his staff into his other hand, sweeping it across the base of the snowdrift. Elsa felt a hard, cold wind begin to swirl through the room, and the snowdrift began to blow into the air, billowing frost lifting as a cloud. After a few moments, Jack leapt forward, diving under the lifted snowbank.

FOOM!

It fell back down on top of him, the last of the frost gently floating down around it onto the ground.

After a few seconds, Jack burst back out of the snow again, shooting towards the ceiling, ice particles flying off of him. He then came back down onto the floor, sweeping into a dramatic bow and holding out a pair of icy high heels.

"Your _glass slippers_ , Cinderella," he proclaimed, looking up through his eyelashes with a grin. "Shall we see if they fit?"

"They'd certainly better," she laughed. "Thank you, Jack."

"Ma'am."

She reached out her hand to take them, but he raised his eyebrows and fell onto one knee, gesturing for her foot. Elsa blushed as she extended her right leg through the slit of her dress. He gently grasped her ankle, slipping on the high heel.

After a few moments, Elsa began to struggle trying to keep her balance.

"Um," she laughed nervously, "Are you—um, are you intending to do the other foot at any time, or—?"

Her voice trailed off, and Jack looked up, not releasing her leg. A flirtatious smile spread across his face, and he sighed dramatically, tracing his finger around her ankle. "But I like this one so much..."

" _OOOH_ -kay," Elsa blurted, yanking her leg out of his grip, "I think we're done here…"

Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter as she took a step back, leaning down and snatching up her other shoe from his hand. He shook his head again, chuckling under his breath as she stumbled to the side and crammed it onto her foot.

"You have the _greatest_ expressions," he chuckled.

Her face flushed. Pretending not to notice his mischievous grin as he readjusted his grip on the staff, Elsa then shook her head vigorously and stepped forward, putting her hands on her hips.

"Well, _one_ thing's for certain," she declared, "We've got to clean this up before anyone can see it. I'll do this side, and you can do that side."

She turned away from him, facing the bookshelves across the room and concentrating. Then, holding her arms out, she began to visualize herself pulling the snow together, her heart swelling. Turning around, she then—

Elsa realized that Jack hadn't moved. A pained expression was on his face.

"Jack, what's wrong?"

He looked up to the shelves, the table covered with snow, the enormous snowdrift that had fallen back onto the floor. Opening his mouth to say something, he shrugged, laughing nervously with embarrassment, and then closed it again. He began to blush.

Elsa's eyes widened slightly.

"You—um," she said quietly, "You—don't know how to melt your snow?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably on his feet, readjusting his grip on the staff. He bit his lip. "Um," he admitted, "I guess—I guess it just never occurred to me that I would _want_ to melt it."

"Never occurred to you?"

"It—well, _why would I?"_ he scoffed, suddenly defensive, "I'm _Jack Frost,_ Snowflake. I'm _supposed_ to make a mess of everything."

"Oh, come _on_ ," she retorted, "That's hardly an excuse! And it's not even _true."_

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen you make some _beautiful_ things in the last couple days," Elsa countered, bringing a slight blush from the Spirit of Winter. "I think learning to melt your snow would be worth your time. I can teach you how, if you like. I mean, if you let me."

He didn't respond immediately, avoiding eye contact and awkwardly shuffling his foot on the ground again. After a few moments—a shy little hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth—Elsa watched as her new friend hesitantly looked back up into her eyes.

"Okay," Jack agreed.

Elsa's heart leapt.

"It's important to be able to melt the things you freeze for the same reason that it's important to have an eraser when you draw," she said eagerly as he set the staff on the ground next to his feet. "With large-scale snow, like blizzards, it doesn't matter, but if you want precision, then you need more careful control."

He raised his eyebrows. "For artsy-type stuff?"

" _Exactly!"_

He grinned sheepishly as Elsa then walked around behind him. Stepping up, reaching forward with her body nearly pressed up against his back, she gently slid her arms underneath his own.

"It's kind of a _lifting_ —and a warmth," she explained, gently pushing his wrists up. "Like this."

Jack followed her soft prodding, imitating the gesture. "Like, how you pull ice out of the ground?"

"No, not that strong. That just makes more ice. It's like…" her voice trailed off, and she laughed softly, readjusting her grip. "It's like picking up a small animal, or a child, or something. You have to _love_ the snow, and then you can lift it up into the air."

To this, Jack laughed as well, his muscles relaxing slightly. "Um— _love_ the snow?" he chuckled.

"Well—right," Elsa replied, moving her hand further up his arm. "And then you can just—sort of _call_ it to you. Just think about love, Jack."

He raised a single eyebrow. "Keep touching me like that, and maybe I will."

Elsa's breath caught. She then blushed, biting her lip as he twisted his head around to look at her, a sly grin on the corner of his mouth.

"Admit it," he said softly, "You walked _right into that one,_ Snowflake."

"Will you just try it?"

She released his arms, taking a step back, and Jack looked forward again, shaking out his hands. Then, closing his eyes, he drew in a long breath, slowly pulling his arms into the air like she had shown him.

Nothing happened.

Elsa's heart sank as Jack opened his eyes, a look of disappointment sweeping across his face. Biting his lip, he set his feet, bending down and sweeping his arms upwards again.

 _CRACK!_

A sudden shot of ice blasted out of his palms, flying into the air and smashing into the nearest bookshelf. Blushing furiously, Jack groaned in frustration, gritting his teeth and beginning to set his feet to try again.

"You're trying too hard, Jack," Elsa blurted, leaping in front of him before he could do so. "You're getting too stressed about it. That'll make more ice. Whatever you're worrying about—you have to let it go."

He looked up at her as she gently pushed down his arms. "Let go of the stress?"

"Basically." Elsa took a step back so that he could try again. "Just—breathe. You have to focus on your heart. And then let it consume you. "

"Focus on your…?"

Jack's voice trailed off.

His mouth fell open slightly, his eyes widening in epiphany as if a new, strange idea had hit him. Elsa's eyebrows lifted.

"Hey… _wait_ ," he said. "I just… I just thought of something."

He spun around and kicked his staff into his hand, running to the center of the open part of the library, coming up to the table and chairs underneath the enormous skylight. Elsa watched as Jack placed his hand flat onto the table's edge, into the thin film of frost. Then—holding his breath—he suddenly snapped his palm upwards.

In a tiny _puff_ of cold air, the frost followed his fingers, flying off the table and shooting into the air. In a fraction of a second, the snowflakes twisted into a spiral, bursting apart into a shimmering mist in front of him and disintegrating.

"Ah-HA!"

Jack grinned mischievously, tucking his staff underneath his arm and placing both hands on the table. His eyes narrowed with excited concentration, he then yanked them back.

 _FWOOM!_

The thick layer of snow abruptly jerked forward, rippling off the wood like a sheet as it flew into the air. Elsa gasped as the blanket of snow spun like cloth and wrung itself into itself into a ball, then exploding into nothingness just like the first, the shimmering glitter of ice bursting around him with a loud _crack_ as Jack threw his arms out, the staff falling onto the ground. He laughed triumphantly and did a back flip, snatching the shepherd's crook up from off the carpet and launching himself into the air.

Elsa spun around as a gust of icy air ripped through her skirt, the fabric flapping about her legs as he shoot up to the skylight, sweeping around the grand circle of windows. Whipping his staff over his head, he flipped forward, tumbling downwards through the air towards the bookshelves. As he darted around the room, flinging his arms into the air and leaping from surface to surface, the ice followed him, spiraling, sparkling, and shooting out from all the crevices in the bookcases and rushing to follow. It danced and twisted, almost as if it were rejoicing, long lines of frost sweeping up around him as he flew. He spun and leapt between the surfaces, laughing and flinging his staff as he launched himself off every surface, and the frost followed suit as he pulled it into the dance, flying off of every surface and out from every nook and cranny in the room. The blizzard filled the room as he shot between the shelves, but instead of a normal, spinning wind, it was as if each particle was independently whirling and leaping, each dancing by itself, each playing its own part.

Jack laughed triumphantly, flipping forward and lighting down upon the table in front of Elsa, flinging his staff into the air as the wind whipped through the room. The snow followed in an elated procession, hundreds of twisting, spiraling, glimmering ribbons of ice particles flying through the air, following his every move and gesture as if he was the leader of this spirited dance of ice, the impassioned conductor of a silent orchestra of frost.

Elsa's eyes were wide with amazement, completely fixated, unable to look away from the angelic, dazzlingly radiant young man spinning and laughing on the table. His white hair and navy hood whipped in the wind as he whirled around and around with his arms outstretched, a shepherd's crook in his hand, exuberantly directing his symphony of ice, completely surrounded by the leaping, flying, dancing, twisting, spiraling, sparkling…

 _Snow_.

Her breath caught at the sudden realization. This was Jack Frost. She was standing here, her heart pounding, in the library, and watching _Jack Frost_ —the Spirit of Winter, Master of Blizzards, and the secret obsession of her entire childhood and adolescence— _dancing with his snow._

Elsa had never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life.

All of a sudden, with the whirling blizzard closing in around him, Jack leapt forward on the table, jerking in his arms and falling onto his knees. The ice obeyed, rushing in onto itself.

eeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE _POW!_

The ball of ice exploded as Jack threw out his arms again, bursting into the air like a firework. As a hard silence fell over the room, Elsa felt the wind slow to a stop, nothing left of the snow in the library except for a faint, white shimmering disintegrating into the air.

Jack lowered his arms.

For a few moments, he stood in sudden quiet turned away from her, his back shaking as he struggled to catch his breath. Elsa took a step forward, crossing her arms over her chest.

" _That_ ," she said breathlessly, "That was— _incredible."_

Jack, turning around and looking into her eyes, grinned, his face slightly flushed again. "Naw," he laughed. "That was _fun."_

"B-But, you didn't even _melt_ the snow," she exclaimed, "You—like—made it _disintegrate!_ How on _earth_ did you do that?"

He shrugged, kicking his staff over his shoulder and walking towards her across the long tabletop, shaking his head. "I just bridled my power in the same way I usually do," he said casually. "I focused on my center."

"Your _center?"_

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, "You know—fun. _That_ was fun. If you always just focus on your center, your _main passion_ , then you ca— _wait_ a minute."

His eyes suddenly narrowed, and he jumped down from the table, silently landing on the rich carpet and walking towards her.

"Elsa, if there was one thing—one _idea,"_ he said intensely, looking into her eyes, "That you could focus on—one thing that made everything make sense, one thing that chased all the darkness and fear away for you—what would it be?"

She froze for a moment, trying to process the strange question. Then, she let out a long sigh, biting her lip and glancing down.

"I—I don't know," she admitted quietly. "I can't think of anything. Maybe I don't have one."

"Oh, come on," he pressed, " _Everybody_ has _something_ that drives them. Think harder."

She fidgeted with the edge of her capelet, staring determinately at the ground. He took another step closer to her, his face right up next to her own.

"Elsa, _how do you melt the snow?"_

Elsa closed her eyes, biting her lip nervously. After a few more moments, she then pulled in a long breath. "Well—like I said," she stammered, "Just—love. You know, like warmth. I focus on love. Love will thaw, right? I mean, if you're asking what helps me to chase the darkness away, I guess love would be it, but I don't think that's anything special. I just— _wait_ ," she said suddenly, "Wha—What's wrong?"

Jack had leaned his head back, drumming his fingers on the staff, chuckling bitterly to himself with closed eyes. He then looked to her again, shaking his head.

 _"Love,"_ he exhaled. He took a step back, his eyebrows slightly raised with disbelief. "Your _center_ is _love?"_

"Well, I—"

"—YOUR _CENTER_ IS _LOVE?"_

Elsa felt blood rushing to her cheeks as he turned away, kneading his eyebrows and beginning to pace. A wave of panic swept over her. Had she said something wrong?

"Jack," Elsa stammered, "I—I'm sorry, I just—"

He suddenly stopped himself mid-step, wheeling around to her and shaking his head, running his hand through his hair. He started walking back to her again, staring intently into her eyes.

" _My_ center is _fun_ ," he said, "Bunny's is hope, North's is wonder—you know, that kind of thing."

"What about it?"

"For most of us, our center is something that _stems_ from love," Jack continued, finally standing in front of her and leaning onto his staff. "Love for possibilities, love for the physical world, love for laughter, that kind of thing. But _your_ center—your center is love _itself?"_

His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging slightly open as he stared at her in astonishment. Elsa suddenly felt a rush of shyness sweep through her body, and she looked down to the floor, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. Then, fidgeting with her fingers, she hesitantly looked back up into his gaze.

"Is that… bad?"

To this, Jack's eyes widened. After a few moments, he let out a breathy bark of laughter, slapping his hand over his face. He then looked up, grinning sheepishly, and readjusted his grip on the staff, putting his free hand on her shoulder. Elsa felt a new rush of excitement as she felt his hand on her skin again.

"It's. _Amazing,"_ he breathed. "And, it explains a lot."

"Like what?"

"Like why you're so afraid of it," he shrugged. "You're _terrified_ of love, Elsa. That much is obvious."

"T-Terrified?" she stammered, "Why would—why would I be terrified of love?"

"Because you value it so much."

The words hit her hard. Elsa sucked in her breath, and Jack took a step back, leaning onto his staff again.

"From what you've told me, it sounds like you grew up being taught that reaching out to people—or letting them reach out to you, frankly—was putting them in danger," he said softly, "Am I right?"

"Yes. I suppose." Elsa folded her arms across her chest. "But I still _wanted_ to. I mean, even though I couldn't. I didn't have enough control over my powers to be allowed to love people."

"Elsa, has it never occurred to you that _not being allowed to love people_ was the _reason_ you didn't have control over your powers?"

Elsa swallowed hard, folding her arms tighter across her chest.

"Jack," she choked, "My parents were only trying to help. They didn't know any better."

"I know." He sighed, absent-minded spinning the staff on the floor. "But you need to promise me something, Snowflake."

"Oh?"

He suddenly caught the staff, snatching it into his hand and taking a step towards Elsa again. She nervously looked down, feeling his piercing gaze on her face again.

"You've got to promise me that you'll _STOP_ it with the _I-Must-Make-Myself-Miserable-By-Suppressing-My-Center-To-Protect-Arendelle_ thing," he gritted. " _Every time_ you suppress your center, you break apart. You loose control. Something horrible happens. You _have to start allowing yourself to love people,_ Elsa."

Her heart leapt into her throat. "I _do_ love people!"

"Name some."

"Alright," she said angrily. "I love Anna."

"Oh, good. _One_ person," he retorted. "Anyone else?"

"Well—you know. Kristoff, I guess."

"That's two." Before Elsa opened her mouth to say something more, Jack suddenly looked back to her, interrupting. "And when I say _love,_ I don't mean, like, a generic _oh-you're-such-a-good-person-I'm-so-happy-we-can-make-pleasant-conversation_ love. I mean, a personal, deep, _wanting-to-do-anything-you-can-to-help-this-person-and-stay-with-them-forever_ love."

Elsa fell quiet, closing her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something again, but no sound came out. She fidgeted with her fingers again.

" _Look_ ," Jack sighed, "I know that you were raised to believe that sacrificing your relationships and isolating yourself was the answer to everything. It's not okay."

"Sometimes, sacrifice _is_ the answer, Jack."

"Sacrificing yourself for someone you love, versus sacrificing your _right to love them—not_ the same thing, Snowflake."

Elsa bit her lip. She looked down at the ground again, and let her arms down to her sides. "We should really get back to work," she choked.

She shook her head vigorously, closing her eyes and turning away from him to walk back to the table. She pulled out her chair to sit down again, but Jack was there in an instant, slamming her book shut before Elsa could reach for it. He then spun around and sat on it, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring into her eyes.

"Promise me you'll stop trying to use _protecting Arendelle_ as an excuse to suppress your center," he said darkly.

"I can't make that promise. I don't know if I can keep it."

Elsa stood up and bent across the table, reaching for the other volume. As she did so, Jack calmly tipped his staff back over his shoulder.

 _CRACK!_

A blast of ice shot out in front of her, hitting into the side of the book and sealing its pages shut before she could touch it. Elsa groaned, but before she could withdraw her hand, Jack lunged forward caught her wrist, holding it fast. She gasped and looked up to find herself suddenly staring directly into his startlingly blue eyes, scarcely an inch away from his face.

 _"Elsa…?"_

He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

After a few moments of glaring each other down, she sighed. Finally, she then closed her eyes again, shaking her head.

" _Fine_ ," she choked. "I promise."

"You promise what?"

"I promise to stop suppressing my center."

"Which is?"

"Jack, I—"

"— _Which is?"_

Elsa sucked in her breath, feeling blood rushing to her face again.

"Um—love," she stammered.

" _There_ we go."

Jack released her wrist, and Elsa shook out her hand, sitting back into the chair as he got up off of her book. She sighed, grasping the enormous front cover and beginning to search for where she'd left off.

"Aaaaaand _back_ to the inheritance war," she laughed bitterly.

Jack walked around the table, picking up his fallen chair and reaching for the volume. The pages were still frozen together, and he brushed his hand over them, pulling up the frost. It rippled into the air and then burst apart with a tiny, almost indistinguishable, _pop._

Elsa raised her eyebrows, looking up from her book and silently golf clapping her approval. He laughed, looking pleased with himself, and then collapsed into the chair, grasping the enormous volume's cover and beginning to flip through its pages.

"And _back_ to the Cow People for me," he chuckled. "Let's see how much longer this argument is going to last…"

"You know that you can just _skim_ the stuff that isn't applicable, right?"

Jack's eyes widened.

"Um… _what?"_ he choked. "You mean—you mean I didn't have to read all of the— _?"_

Elsa bit her lip, seeing his expression. "Um," she continued, watching in confusion as Jack got onto his feet to stand on top of his chair, "If we're looking for child abuse law references, and you can tell that there aren't going to be any, it's alright for you to—"

 _THUNK._

Sweeping his hand to his forehead, Jack dramatically threw himself out of the chair, collapsing onto the floor. Elsa suddenly found herself looking at, instead of his face, his bare feet, which were now sticking straight up in the air in the same place where he had been sitting.

" _Gaaaaaaaaaack_ ," he croaked, "I—I'm moving towards the _liiiiiiiiiight_ …"

She restrained from a giggle, trying to keep her face straight as he continued.

 _"Tell my children I love themmmm…"_

"Wait," Elsa jolted, "You have _children?"_

He sat up suddenly, looking back to her. "Ummm—no."

"Then who should I tell you love them?"

He fell over again.

 _"Fiiiiiiiiind some random childrennnnnn…"_

Elsa chuckled under her breath, shaking her head and calmly turning her page. "Jack, if you had really just keeled over and died with your feet in the air, I think I would expect to see some twitching, or something."

From behind the table, Elsa saw him wiggle his toes.

" _Twitch,"_ he choked helpfully.

"And you wouldn't actually _say '_ twitch.'"

"Well, maybe I would," he retorted, "I mean, come on. Who has more _death_ experience, you or me?"

"Wait, _what?"_

Jack's legs fell down suddenly. Elsa stood up, shoving the chair back and running around to the other side of the table. By the time she got there, Jack was scrambling onto his feet, his face turning red.

She crossed her arms over her chest. " _What_ did you just say?"

"Nothing."

He reached for his chair, and Elsa leapt in front of him, shoving it into the table. He looked up into her face, his sudden nervousness poorly hidden as he pretended to scoff, rolling his eyes.

Elsa folded her arms tighter.

"You said _death experience,"_ she enunciated.

"It—it was a joke," he said quickly, glancing to the left, "Don't worry about it."

"You're not acting like it's a joke."

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, biting his lip. Then, Elsa watched as he sighed, shaking his head and leaning onto the staff.

" _Jack_ ," Elsa tried again, dropping her voice to a whisper, "I know you're hiding something from me."

He squeezed his eyes shut. After a few moments, he ran his hand through his hair nervously, pulling in a long, pained breath and hesitantly looking up into her eyes again.

"I—um," Jack stammered, shaking his head, "I—I sort of—died. A lot of years ago. I'm kind of—undead right now. Actually."

Elsa's breath caught.


	27. Monsters or Miracles

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: (*peers up from behind laptop*) Hey, everybody. You hear that? (*ominous rustling*) It's the sound of MEEEEEEEEE, UPPING THE SEXUAL AWKWARDNESS AGAIN! BECAUSE… well, because I can. (*A-hem*) Rated T for extreme innuendo, proceed with caution, yadayadaYA. (Also: I mean no insult to anyone who has done AU's where Jack is a vampire; I just find it slightly amusing because it's a character twist that would have NEVER occurred to me, and I wondered how _my_ version of Jack would react to the idea.) ;)Thanks for reading, and have a fantabulous day!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo, as usual**

.

 **.**

 **27: MONSTERS OR MIRACLES**

Elsa's eyes widened. "You— _died?"_

She watched in shock as Jack painfully pulled in his breath again, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. Sticking his free hand in his pocket, he swallowed hard, and looked back down to the floor.

"Sort of," he choked, "Ish. I mean—um—yeah."

Her heart started pounding, seeing his expression. It all made sense now. Elsa looked over him again in shock as the pieces fell into place. His pale, sometimes almost translucent skin, his unearthly and snowflake-marked eyes, his cold touch, his white hair, and of course, his impenetrable silence about his age. Jack Frost wasn't simply a clever, flirtatious young man with ice powers.

He was undead.

"You died," Elsa breathed again. Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. "You actually— _died."_

"I fell through some ice—a while ago," he admitted quietly. "And then the Man in the Moon brought me back to life out of the frozen lake."

A thick silence fell over the two of them, Jack staring at the floor and leaning onto his staff, Elsa crossed her arms tighter over her chest, her mind racing.

After a few moments, Jack pulled in another long, pained breath.

"Perhaps I should have mentioned that earlier," he squeaked.

"PERHAPS YOU SHOULD HAVE."

"Are you mad at me?"

"I—" Elsa paused, her voice trailing off, and she then looked up into his eyes again. "Yes. No. I don't know. I'm just—confused."

"How so?"

She closed her eyes, looking down. Then, nervously twisting her spike heel on the carpet, she vigorously shook her head, looking back to him.

"You died," she stammered.

"Yeah, I think we've established that."

"B-But you're _blushing!"_ she exclaimed, "How can you be _blushing_ , if you're _dead?_ "

"Because I'm _not dead_ ," Jack retorted, "I'm _undead._ As in, I'm _back_ from the dead. So, I still have—like— _blood_ , and everything."

Her eyes were wide with shock, trying to process what he was saying. It simply wasn't sinking in. Could it really…?

She realized that she had unconsciously raised her hand to his chest level, taking a hesitant step towards him. She paused, her face flushing slightly, and looked back up into his eyes. They were soft again, silently reassuring her.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "I don't mind."

He took her outstretched hand in his own, and placed it firmly on his chest.

She could feel it.

Elsa exhaled slowly, closing her eyes and letting the strange relief sweep over her as she pressed her palm into the ice-covered navy cloth. Jack's heartbeat was strong, thumping powerfully under her hand, his lungs expanding and contracting with air as he breathed, just like they were supposed to be.

It was clear from the chill of his skin seeping through the cloth that he had died. Yes—that much was true. But he was clearly alive again. Which was the thing that mattered.

Just as she was about to take her hand back from his chest, she felt something unusually icy and hard under her fingers. Pushing her hand up across his hood's thick fabric towards his collarbone, she felt a jolt rush through her, realizing what she was feeling on his chest.

He was wearing the snowflake medal on the inside of his shirt.

Jack laughed softly. Elsa looked up into his face, a weak smile crossing her own.

"I was wondering what you'd done with it," she admitted.

He shrugged, blushing slightly again. "I like being able to feel it."

"Why?"

"You gave it to me."

Elsa gasped, and felt her heart swell within her chest, the sudden warmth practically bubbling up through her entire body. His smile was so genuine. And so sweet…

The silence fell again as the two stared into each other's eyes, each completely unsure of what to say.

Jolting slightly, Elsa retracted her hand and took a step back.

"So you died," she said slowly, "And then you woke back up as—well, as a superhuman."

"As far as I understand it, yeah."

She clasped her hands behind her and turned away, beginning to pace in concentration, staring at the ground. After a few steps, she turned back to him again, her eyebrows raised slightly with curiosity.

"So, you're sort of like a vampire or something, then?" she asked.

"Yeah. _Just_ like a vampire," he replied, absent-mindedly spinning his staff on the ground. He then caught it, looking back to Elsa. "Except for the blood. And the fangs. And the vampire part."

"I guess you've got a point there."

Walking towards her again, Jack swung the staff behind his back, catching the end of the shepherd's crook with his other hand. "I've got to hand it to you, Elsa," he laughed bitterly, "You're taking this _insanely_ well."

"What do you mean?"

"You _haven't_ run away screaming," he chuckled. "I'd call that an unqualified success."

She stopped pacing, and walked back to him, stopping a few feet away and looking into his eyes. "Why on earth would I run away?" she asked. "That wouldn't help anything. I'm just trying to wrap my mind around—well, around you."

"Yeah. You're a lot more concerned about understanding _how_ I am standing here, undead, than you are concerned about _the fact that_ _I am standing here, undead,"_ he scoffed. " _Perfectly_ normal reaction."

Elsa bit her lip, smiling in spite of herself. It did sound rather absurd, when he put it that way.

"A lot of people wouldn't respond well to the _being dead_ thing," Jack said quietly. "I'm sort of a monster. I mean, by _definition_."

"Of _course_ you aren't a monster, Jack."

"A flying, icing, invisible dead man isn't a monster?" he retorted, "Then how would _you_ define it?"

"I. Wouldn't." Elsa folded her arms across her chest. After a few moments, she shrugged, dropping her voice to a whisper. "But if I had to, I guess—I—I'd call it a miracle."

"A _miracle?"_ Jack shook his head, laughing bitterly. "I'm basically a walking corpse."

"And I'm basically a spontaneous ice age waiting to happen."

"That's different."

"How?"

Jack opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it again, readjusting his fingers on the staff. His eyes had widened slightly, filled with a combination of shock and sadness, as he looked into Elsa's expectant face. She raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest and sinking into her hip, waiting for his answer.

He finally pulled in a long breath.

"So," Jack said slowly, "I—I guess we're _both_ monsters, then."

"I guess we are."

They stood in silence for a few moments more, staring at each other in strange fascination.

Jack finally laughed nervously, shrugging. "I _will_ admit," he muttered, "Monsters or miracles—whatever we are, it's really refreshing to know someone of my same—species."

"Same _species?"_ Elsa exclaimed, a wave of confusion sweeping her face. "What do you mean? If there's one thing we're _not_ lacking in this world, I'm pretty sure it's humans."

He looked up, biting his lip. "I don't really consider myself to be—well," he admitted, running his fingers through his hair, "To be—to completely be a human. Honestly."

She uncrossed her arms, clasping her hands behind her back and taking a step towards him. "Do you consider me to be a human?"

"Not really."

"What would you call me, then? As a species?"

A sly smile twitched out of the corner of his mouth. "Sexy Ice Powers Humanoid Thing?"

Elsa felt a jolt of shock rush through her at the word.

She quickly hid it, letting out a sharp bark of laughter and raising her eyebrows. " _Sexy Ice Powers Humanoid Thing,"_ she scoffed, " _Just like you_ , I suppose?"

"Yes, but _significantly_ more female."

Elsa rolled her eyes, feeling herself blushing a bit. It was then that she noticed that Jack was making a visible effort to not look down from her face. He closed his eyes and laughed nervously under his breath, shaking his head, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Elsa's mouth fell open.

"You're _STILL_ thinking about this morning?" she sputtered.

"No," he blurted, rubbing the back of his neck, "I mean—not really—sort of—okay," he exhaled. "Yeah."

Elsa's eyes widened, and Jack shook his head vigorously, letting out another nervous, embarrassed bark of laughter as he gestured with the staff.

"Elsa, it's not like I'm _trying_ to—"

"—You _can't_ be serious!"

"It's kind of hard _not_ to, okay?"

"You are _such_ a jerk!"

"Yeah, and you're a winter vixen wearing lingerie _made out of ice_ ," he stammered, blushing furiously, "Next question?"

Elsa sharply sucked in her breath. With her throat tightening with shock, she looked down at her feet, crossing her arms over her chest. She closed her eyes and turned away, feeling blood rushing to her face. She could practically hear her own heart pounding in the awkward silence as she bit her lip, taking a step towards the table.

A few pained moments passed, and from behind her, she heard Jack let out a long sigh.

"Okay," he mumbled, "That last remark was really out of line. I'm sorry."

Elsa gulped, staring at the floor, her heart in her throat. Letting out a tiny squeak of nervous laughter, she then folded her arms tighter over her chest, and slowly turned back to him.

" _Winter. Vixen…?"_ she choked.

Jack shifted his fingers on the staff, staring at the ground. He blushed slightly, opening his mouth to say something, and then closing it again. Elsa drew herself up, raising her eyebrows.

"I might be new to this whole _friendship_ thing," she said nervously, "But I'm pretty sure that _that_ sort of comment isn't a part of it."

"I know."

"And we _are_ just friends."

"I know that, too."

She glared at him more intently. Sensing it, he adjusted his grip on the shepherd's crook, hesitantly looking up to meet her gaze.

"I said that I _know_ we're just friends," Jack muttered. "I never said that I _liked_ it that way."

The statement caught her completely off guard.

Shaking her head slightly to wake herself from the sudden stupor, Elsa shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "You seemed to be fine with it yesterday," she said.

"I know things about you now that I didn't know yesterday."

Elsa pressed her lips together again, staring determinately at the floor.

"Things you weren't supposed to _ever_ find out," she choked.

A look of confusion swept across Jack's face.

After a few moments, the realization falling onto him, he scoffed, his face cracking into a sheepish grin. "I wasn't actually talking about walking in on you," he laughed softly, "Even though that _was—_ um—"

Jack paused, searching for the right word.

"Great," he decided. "Seriously, though. I was talking about who you are."

Elsa opened her mouth to say something. Then, she abruptly shut it again, pacing over to her chair and collapsing into it. As she reopened the volume of court records and started flipping through its pages, Jack followed her. Effortlessly leaping up onto the table and then falling down onto its edge, he sat next to her, resting his feet on his staff.

Pretending not to notice him, she flipped back to where she was in the record, putting her finger on the column and trying to make herself read.

 _Winter vixen?_ Elsa shook her head, blushing furiously.

She felt Jack scoot an inch closer to her on the table.

"What are you thinking, Elsa?" he teased, grinning and raising his eyebrows.

"Nothing." She shook her head again, closing her eyes and staring determinately back down at the page. She felt herself blushing harder.

"Oh, come _on,"_ he chuckled. "I know that look. Fess up."

Elsa bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut again. Then, she leaned forward onto the table, burying her face in her hands. She pulled in a breath.

"You—you have to promise not to laugh," she shook.

"Only if you promise not to say something hilarious."

Elsa bit her lip. Then, shaking her head, she shyly looked up to him through her fingers.

"So—um," she choked, "You're—Jack Frost."

He glanced to the left, his grin growing a little wider. "Yeah…?"

" _Jack Frost_ , like—ice, and—blizzards— _Spirit of Winter_ —stuff."

"That would be me," he laughed, "What about it?"

Elsa pulled in another long breath, closing her fingers over her eyes again.

"My—um—my underthings," she stammered, "Being made out of ice—that—appeals to you? Apparently?"

Jack raised his eyebrows.

After a few moments, he burst out laughing, rolling back onto the table and clapping his hand over his eyes. Elsa felt blood rushing to her face in embarrassment. She was just starting to put her head down, burying her face in her arms, when she felt Jack's cold hands on her wrists.

Her heart leapt up into her throat, and Elsa suddenly found herself nervously looking up into his piercingly blue eyes as he gently pulled her hands away from her face. He was grinning, blushing slightly himself.

" _You. Have. NO idea,"_ Jack breathed, shaking his head.

Elsa felt more blood rushing to her face.

Quickly breaking eye contact, she bit her lip, swallowing hard. Jack let go of her wrists, and she slowly pulled them down into her lap, fidgeting with a bit of the cloth on her skirt.

"If—if it makes you feel any better," Jack added quickly, "It's more your clothes in _general_ —"

"—What's your favorite color?" Elsa blurted.

He blinked.

"Uh…" Jack said slowly. "My… favorite color?"

"I'm changing the subject."

Jack raised his eyebrows. Then, scooting back on the tabletop, he pulled his feet up onto the wood, crossing his legs and dropping his staff across his lap.

"Oh. Uh… okay," he offered, visibly restraining from a laugh. "Probably blue."

"Oh."

Elsa fell silent again, fidgeting with her fingers. Twisting the edge of her capelet, she then swallowed hard, pulling in her breath.

"That's… nice," she added.

Her heart pounding, Elsa bit her lip, staring into her lap and trying to think of something else to say.

"Are we still doing one answer for one answer?" Jack asked , making her snap back into focus.

"Oh! I—uh, sure."

He smiled, clearly restraining from another laugh at her expression. Leaning forward slightly, the staff still lying across his lap, Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Okay… how about _you,_ then?" he prompted. "What's _your_ favorite color?"

Elsa stared the tabletop.

"It's—also probably blue," she squeaked.

Feeling his expectant gaze on her face, Elsa squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. Without looking up, she heard Jack scoot an inch towards her on the wood.

 _"'_ _Also probably?'"_ he chuckled.

"Well, sometimes it changes," Elsa said quickly, "Depending on the day. In summer, I tend to be more partial to lavenders and greens, probably because of the seasons, so I _can't_ definitively say that my favorite color is blue. Even though it always comes back to blue. So, overall, it's blue on _average,_ but because it's not blue one hundred percent of the time, to say that my favorite color is blue isn't completely accurate. Therefore, I'll say that my favorite color is _probably_ blue, not because I'm uncertain about my preference for the color, but because I'm taking into account the inaccuracy of the implied meaning of the answer. But, you already _said_ that, so to repeat the statement without the addition of the word " _also_ " sounds kind of—"

Her voice trailed off, and Elsa slowly looked up, realizing that Jack was resting his chin on his fist, staring at her with an expression of amused disbelief.

"Kind of—rude?" Elsa squeaked.

She winced, shrinking into her chair.

"Um… _wow_ , _"_ Jack chuckled. "That's _got_ to be the most in-depth analysis of a favorite color that I've ever heard."

"I like to be precise."

He glanced down to the staff, a little grin twitching out of the side of his mouth. As he smiled quietly to himself, saying nothing, Elsa sucked in her breath again.

"Technically, I _wasn't_ analyzing my favorite color," she blurted. "I was explaining the logic behind my response."

Looking back up, Jack's eyes locked with her own for a fraction of a second, and Elsa quickly broke contact, staring determinately down into her lap again.

Without even looking at him, she could feel his face fall.

"Elsa, I _said_ I was sorry," Jack sighed. "You can stop freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out."

He raised a single eyebrow. "Does the word _filibuster_ mean anything to you?"

"Of course," Elsa retorted. "I've had to do it a few times. Why?"

There was a faint sparkling above them, and Elsa looked up, realizing to her horror that tiny flurries of snow were materializing out of the air over her head. Looking back down again, she bit her lip, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks.

"I am _not_ freaking out," Elsa repeated.

Jack looked up, eying the snowflakes falling around her. "Uh… of course not."

Elsa felt herself blushing harder.

"So, it's your turn again," he said softly.

Nodding quickly, she drew herself up. "What's your favorite food?"

"Oh, come _on!"_ Jack scoffed, "Elsa—we've got _ice powers._ Can't you think of anything more interesting to talk about than _that?"_

"What do you mean?"

"Well… not that your favorite food isn't fascinating to me," he laughed, "But, _I'm_ still kind of wanting to talk snow. I mean, now that I've met someone who actually _can."_

"But do you _know_ my favorite food?"

"I'm guessing it's chocolate."

Elsa's eyes widened. "Wow," she admitted, "That's actually—wait, how'd you know?"

He smirked. "You're female?"

"Now, _that's_ just sexist."

"Is it true?"

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. "Okay, fine. It's _sort of_ true," Elsa muttered. "What kinds of questions were you thinking of talking about, though?"

He considered this for a few moments. "Ah. Here's one," Jack started, scooting towards her on the table again. "What's your favorite kind of snowstorm?"

"Oh, probably Lake Effect snow at dusk. Or, waking up and seeing the first high-elevation stuff on the mountaintops in fall," she responded. "How it sparkles in the sunlight? And, it's the first sign of winter coming. How about you?"

"Blizzards. _Definitely,"_ Jack declared, "I'm talking _whiteouts._ But, from over the clouds—that's where it's at. Ever been up high enough to see a blizzard from its side, Snowflake?"

"Nope."

"Well, then." Jack leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist and gazing at her flirtatiously through his eyelashes. "We'll just have to _take_ you, won't we?"

"But if you're always _above_ them, you can't see the snowflakes up close!" Elsa retorted, not noticing his expression, "That's my _favorite_ kind of ice—the super-detailed kind?"

"Mmm, is that so?"

"Uh- _huh_ ," she beamed. "What's your favorite kind of ice?"

"Don't have one."

" _What?_ Why not?"

"I don't know! I just don't!"

"Oh, come on. Of _course_ you do," she scoffed, "Just _think_ about it! I love big, dry snowflakes. Like—when they're big enough that they've really had the _time_ to get all different patterns, and they just kind of float on top of each other."

"But, when they're _too_ dry, you can't pack them into snowballs, or anything."

"But powder is better for sledding."

"I guess that's true."

" _And,_ powder sparkles more."

"Ah! _There_ it is!" Jack laughed. "The truth comes _out!"_

She rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm self-aware enough to actually _know_ what my favorite kind of ice is—"

"—I still don't get why I've got to have one!"

"Don't you want to _understand_ yourself?"

"I _do_ understand myself!"

"Then how can you possibly not know?"

"I want to _understand_ myself, _yes_ ," Jack sputtered, " _Analyze_ myself _,_ no!"

"Why not?"

"Snowflake, not _everybody_ with ice powers has taken the time to carefully categorize and rank all the different kinds of snow that they can come up with."

"I'm not asking about _all_ of them! Just your favorite!"

"I don't know! Just whatever's fun!" he laughed. "Maybe _I_ don't rank things I like by how much they _sparkle."_

"What's wrong with sparkles?!"

"Aaaaaaand BACK to Square One!" Jack proclaimed. "You are _such_ a _GIRL!"_

"Is that a problem?"

He snorted. " _No_ ," Jack chucked, _"I_ think it's great! In fact, I…"

His voice trailed off. After a few moments of silence, Jack Frost's eyes suddenly flickered down to her dress, lingering for a moment on the glistening neckline of her bodice.

A strange expression crept over his face.

Swallowing hard, Elsa watched as Jack uncomfortably shifted his fingers on the staff and looked back up into her eyes, an embarrassed, shy little smile creeping over his features.

"I guess I _do_ have a favorite kind of ice," he breathed.

Elsa stared back at him quizzically as he glanced down to her dress again, biting the edge of his lip. As he gave his head a little shake, self-consciously ruffling his fingers though his hair, Elsa looked down to her lap, her brow furrowed in confusion. What was he _talking_ about? Why was he acting so—

Oh.

 _Oh._

A wave of sudden nausea swept over her, and she collapsed forward onto the table, burying her head in her arms as her insides turned to jelly.

"You—you mean—um," she squeaked miserably, her voice hardly more than a whisper. "You mean my unmentionables."

Rocking back on the table, Jack let out a nervous laugh, blushing furiously. Pulling in his breath, he anxiously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, you can relax with the euphemisms," he admitted. "They have been mentioned."

"They shouldn't have been."

"But you look good!"

"Not helping, Jack."

"It's more what you _weren't_ wearing _—"_

"— _Aaaaaaand_ now it's even worse," Elsa groaned. She raised her head off the table, sitting up and leaning onto her elbows. "I like ice because—well, I just _do_. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"It's not _like_ that," she countered, blushing even harder as she determinately stared at the table, "It's not meant to be—I never thought that someone could have a— _thing_ —for that?"

" _I don't!"_

Elsa bit her lip, reluctantly looking up into his eyes.

His mouth falling open, Jack froze, staring at her in shock. His ears flushing pink, he then quickly broke eye contact, pulling in his breath.

"I— _look,"_ he stammered embarrassedly, kneading his eyebrows, "It's not a— _thing._ I swear. I just really like—ice—and— _girls_ —and you just—you just _combined—_!"

Jack's voice trailed off, and he stopped talking, giving his head a vigorous shake. Burying his face in his hands, Elsa shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the pink in Jack Frost's ears deepened into a nearly crimson hue.

"You just _sexualized ice,"_ he choked.

Jack swallowed hard, shaking his head again. Shifting on the table and slowly pulling his hands away from his face, Elsa then watched as the Youngest Guardian looked back to her, a dreamy grin tugging at the edge of his mouth as he worshipfully gazed into her eyes.

"You are _reeeeally_ fun," Jack quavered excitedly.

Elsa felt blood rushing to her face.

"Um…" she shook. "Thanks?"

"No! _Really!_ That is _fun,"_ Jack blurted, the words tumbling faster and faster out of his mouth, "I mean—that's _really_ fun; that is _SO_ fun—"

"Jack—"

"That you could even _do_ that was," he stammered eagerly, "I mean—I knew that your _clothes_ were, but—"

 _"_ _Jack—"_

"It never occurred to me—"

"JACK—"

"All the way _down_ —"

"— _SHUT IT!"_ Elsa shrieked.

He froze.

"Stop talking," Elsa squeaked, "You—mouth closed. No more speak. Please."

Jack shifted his fingers on the staff. Glancing down, and then biting his lip, he looked back to her.

"Bu—"

 _"—_ _AH!"_

"It—"

"—NO."

"Yes, ma'am."

" _THANK_ you."

She looked back down to her volume of court records, reaching forward to find her place on the page again. After a few moments of silence, she heard Jack Frost pull in his breath.

"Shutting up. Yes, ma'am," he breathed, raising his hand in a slow salute as he glanced down to her dress. "Yesssssss, _MA'AM."_

Elsa's face went pale.

Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, Elsa stared back down into her lap as he hopped down from off the table, turning to walk around it. Reaching its other side, Jack pulled out his own seat, scrambling into it.

"Seriously, though," he started again, making her jolt back into focus. "We can talk about something else. Like—it's your turn, again. For the questions?"

 _"_ _Right!"_ Elsa blurted. "Um—let's see. Did I ask you about your position on conservationism? I mean, as opposed to preservationism. There's this idea that hunting rights could be better regulated by—"

"—I meant, something _fun,"_ Jack chuckled.

"Debating policy _is_ fun! It's interesting. And, really important. So, there's this idea of a tax being put on hunting licenses, and—"

"—Yeah, nothing says a good time like talking about _Taxes_ and _Death."_

"Well, what do _you_ suggest?" she retorted, beginning to blush again.

"How about something more cheery, like malaria?"

Elsa bit her lip, staring into her lap again with embarrassment.

"Like—okay," Jack offered, making Elsa look up again, "Here's one. What did you like to do as a kid?"

"As a kid?"

"Well—yeah!" he exclaimed, "If I didn't find out that you existed until a couple nights ago, we should make up for lost time, right? So, what did you do for fun?"

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and she considered the question. After a few moments—feeling herself beginning to relax—Elsa pulled in her breath.

"When I was _really_ little—before the accident," she admitted, shyly looking back up to him, "Anna and I would build snowmen. In the ballroom."

He grinned approvingly. "That _does_ sound fun. What else?"

"And then, I—um, when I was older—I—"

Her voice trailed off, and she looked down again, her expression falling. After a few moments, Jack Frost got onto his feet.

"And…?" he prompted.

Elsa, her face grave, got to her feet.

"Let's put the records back. We're done with legal research for today," she choked. "There's something I think you need to see."


	28. Thread, Parchment, and Pins

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Two things: FIRST… okay, you know how Disney hyper-sexualized the way Elsa walks at the end of "Let It Go?" This is rated T for the fact that I'm making fun of them… by messing with Jack's mind. (*MANIACAL LAUGHTER*) SECOND… so, I made the horrible mistake of going back and looking at some of the first chapters I posted (you know, before I thought anyone would ever read this?), and realized that I… hate them. I'm usually writing about 3-4 chapters ahead of what I'm posting, and I have the basic plot of the rest of Ice Alliance planned out, but those early chapters REALLY need serious work. QUESTION: I NEED to edit those anyway. Should I do it** _ **now**_ **, have a more solid beginning, and** _ **then**_ **get back to the story, or should I keep pushing forward with the plot, and then edit them at once the end? Please let me know. Love you all, and have a fantabulous day!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Should I even keep bothering, with this? There's sexual innuendo. More innuendo. SO MUCH INNUENDO. ;)**

 **.**

 **.**

 **28: THREAD, PARCHMENT, AND PINS**

After replacing the enormous books, Jack followed Elsa in silence again through the twisting halls. She had said that it was complicated—well, that _he_ was complicated. And something about theories. What the _blizzards_ could she have meant by _theories?_

Elsa looked so tense and worried again that Jack found himself using every ounce of willpower that he possessed to keep from sending a subtle snowflake to land on the back of her neck. Not much magic—just a bit, only enough to calm her down. He had briefly entertained the idea that, if he did it carefully enough, she wouldn't notice it. Given the context, though, he decided against the idea. With his luck, it would come off as creepy, and Elsa, the tips of her ears still slightly pink, was clearly uncomfortable enough already.

Maybe he'd been a _tad_ too honest.

Of course, he hadn't lied; walking in on her that morning was a _complete_ accident. For Elsa's sake, he tried with all his might not linger on the memory, but it kept on popping back up again in his mind, completely uninvited... The image of the beautiful young queen standing there in the faint lamplight, pulling up her hair, her pale pink skin glowing softly through that translucent little half-outfit… she, and… and that _sheer_ little… _icy_ … um. Well.

 _Dang_.

No other way to describe it, really.

It wasn't that he hadn't accidentally seen more than a few things that he didn't want to, in over three centuries of invisibility. In fact, within his first few months, Jack had gotten pretty good at being about to discern which bedroom windows belonged to teenagers and adults, so that he could stay FAR away from them during the early morning and evening hours. But, for some reason, walking in on _Elsa_ had sent him for a loop.

And, OH, what a fantastic loop it was.

He looked back to Elsa, who was regally holding her head high as she swept past the other people in the hallway, her full hips swinging back and forth from her high-heeled gait. When she was in bare feet, she didn't walk that way… could a pair of shoes really do that?

 _I like heels,_ Elsa had said earlier. _They make me taller._

Jack raised his eyebrows slightly, looking back to her and involuntarily glancing down.

 _Oh, that ain't ALL they do to you, Snowflake._

A sly little grin twitched out of the side of his mouth as he looked down again, watching the back of her skirt.

 _So, I can melt ice now and_ NOOOOOOOOO _._

With the jolting realization that his gaze had been locked on Elsa's hips for at least a solid ten seconds, Jack squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head vigorously and pacing after her faster. At least they still had the _Alliance_ thing going, even though they hadn't really done anything with it yet. It wasn't exactly a relationship, but it seemed to imply something stronger than friendship… right?

 _No. We're just friends. She only wants to be friends,_ he thought desperately, mentally scolding himself as Elsa daintily picked up the front of her skirt, starting to climb up a long, twisting flight of stairs in front of him. _She's not ready for anything more, just yet. That's obvious. And, friendship is fine. Right? Being friends is—_

He looked back up towards her and jolted. A little bit ahead of him now on the stairs, the sparkling ice fabric shifting over her hips with each step, the back of Elsa's skirt was now _exactly_ at his eye level.

He froze.

After a brief moment of standing on the step, dumbfounded like a deer in the headlights, Jack shook his head violently again, biting down hard on his lip and running his fingers through his hair. Maybe his brain actually _had_ disintegrated from sifting through those idiotic court records. Either way, it certainly wasn't working the way it used to anymore.

And that dress. Was not. Helping.

Gripping the staff with frustration, he leapt into the air, flying up on the wide staircase and touching down to walk by her side, instead of behind her. Jolting slightly, but then righting herself, Elsa visibly restrained from acknowledging him. Still unable to speak to each other out in the hallway, servants and maids walking through him as they finished ascending the stairs, Jack forced himself to stare at her face. Only. Her. Face. Which was very _pretty,_ but—

The image from that morning suddenly flashed across his mind again. His jaw slackened a bit.

Heh.

Pretty…

 _DANGIT, Jack!_ He thought angrily at himself, _You are 319 years old. You're supposed to be able to handle this. Elsa is a GIRL. This is what girls look like…_

He bit his lip, eying the shimmering ice crystals in her thick, shiny blonde braid.

 _Ice Powers Girl. Same Species Girl._

He drew in his breath as the realization hit him.

 _Never-going-to-find-one-like-this-ever-again girl._

From everything he'd seen so far, Elsa was a _dream_. And she was so much like him, except for the— _female_ —ness. Which Jack was excessively aware of, in this particular moment, with extremely high approval. She wanted to just be friends—at least, that's what she said—and he wasn't going to intentionally push her for anything more unless she was ready. He wasn't a jerk, but he was going to pursue her. He had to. This was just—no. In 319 years, he had _never_ found a young woman like this, and he knew the chances of his ever finding another one ever again were incredibly slim…

Sweet mother of snowdrifts. He was losing his mind.

It was like Elsa kept trying to put down boundaries, and he kept tripping over them.

They finally ended up standing in front of a large, white door, decorated with lilac Arendelle fleur symbols towards the end of the bedrooms. She reached for the handle of the door, and then paused. Her hand shaking, she hesitantly looked back to him. Jack saw with dismay that Elsa's eyes were filled with pain.

Alone in the hallway once again, they were now able to speak.

She pulled in a deep breath. "I—um," she whispered, "I'm sorry—I haven't been in here since before my coronation."

He nodded, still confused. Then, gulping, Elsa shakily took the handle and turned it, silently pushing the door open and stepping into the room.

As she whisked in her recently-repaired capelet, silently closing the door behind them, Jack looked around himself. The room had a few pieces of furniture, but for the most part, it was fairly sparse. It had a tall ceiling as well, just like her bedroom and art gallery, and was faintly lit by the last remaining light of day pouring in front a grand window, looking out over the castle's front courtyard. It was mid-afternoon, but a week or so before Christmas, dusk was approaching rapidly.

On the far side of the room was a single bed, with a canopy and thick, rich purple curtains and an elaborate bedskirt. Across from it and its end table was a long dresser, and between them was a thick, rich carpet. A chair was next to the dresser, and across the room was an armoire, rather like Elsa's current one. A dainty little desk, and a bookcase, were close to the door where he was standing. All in all, it was a lovely—cold, but lovely—room for a royal child.

Jack looked to the dresser again. The bottom drawer was sitting slightly open, a few dark-colored pieces of cloth sticking out of it.

His breath caught.

Elsa sighed. "This was my—"

"—Your childhood bedroom?"

She bit her lip. "How—how did you—?"

"—Just a hunch," Jack said coldly, pacing over to the dresser, "And those had _better_ not be what I think they are."

 _"Don't—!"_

He had already grasped the knob, yanking the large drawer out. Looking down, Jack felt his throat tighten with anger as he gazed into it, seeing that the entire drawer was filled with pair after pair of gloves.

Suddenly, a small piece of white fabric in the back caught his attention. A wave of horror sweeping over him, Jack shakily reached down for it. His eyes widened as he pulled out the tiny, white glove and held it up in the air, his mouth falling slightly open with disbelief.

It was the perfect size for a young child.

Jack's teeth clenched together. His eyes narrowing, and he turned to Elsa, feeling blood rushing to his face in fury. He glanced menacingly to the glove, and then looked intensely back into her face.

" _Elsa_ ," Jack said slowly, struggling to control his voice, _"How old were you?"_

"Please," she pleaded, "Jack—they were only trying to hel—"

"— _HOW OLD WERE YOU?"_

She bit her lip, looking down. "Seven," she whispered. "I—I was seven."

Jack pulled in his breath, crumpling the tiny glove in his hand. Seven years old. She had been _seven years old_ , when they'd started cooping her up.

When they'd started teaching her she was a monster.

Jack _loved_ seven-yr-olds. In his mind, children had something of a "golden age," between the years of six and nine; they were old enough to have fun, but also still young enough that none of them had reached adolescence—or had stopped believing, for the most part. Age seven was truly an age for innocent joy, and play, and—

He looked back to the beautiful young woman standing across the room. Her elegant body draped in a gown of ice, she stood with her shoulders slightly hunched in shame, her cerulean blue eyes cast down with sadness again.

 _Isolation_.

For her, age seven was an age for isolation.

His stomach twisted, looking at her, seeing her delicate frame bent over with fear again. Jack closed his eyes, pulling in a long breath.

"Elsa," he said softly, "Do you have any _idea_ how horrifying this is to me?"

She said nothing, but nodded. It was as if she was in physical pain, the room bearing down on her with memories. Memories a young girl should never have formed…

Elsa pulled in a deep breath. Placing the glove back in the dresser drawer, Jack turned to look at her again.

"Just out of curiosity," she said hesitantly, pausing and gazing up into his eyes from across the room, "Um—how old _are_ you? Exactly?"

He swallowed hard, staring at the ground and shifting his fingers on his staff.

"Let's just say I'm old," he muttered.

"Look, I know you're at least two hundred and sixty, okay?"

The statement took him completely by surprise.

He looked up in shock, his eyes widening slightly. "You—you do?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"Research."

Jack felt another wave of confusion sweep through him, and Elsa pulled in a long breath.

"You might as well tell me," she sighed. "I've just—being in this room reminded me. I've always wondered. I mean, if you _did_ even have an age. One of my theories was that you'd sort of _always_ existed, but I suppose that, if you died, that would imply that you were _born_ at one point."

"Yeah," he admitted, "I guess so. If you must know, I was—woken back up—about three hundred years ago. Almost three hundred and one."

She paused, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling, as if she was doing a quick calculation. A pensive expression on her face, she then looked back to him, a weak little smile pulling at the edge of her mouth.

"300 years," she repeated glassily. "Yeah, I—that sounds about right."

" _Sounds about right?_ What do you mean?" Jack exclaimed, "How did you know? I mean, I sure didn't _tell_ you my age. I thought you'd be creeped out."

"Like I said. Research," Elsa sighed, biting her lip again. "That's—um, that's why I brought you here. What I wanted to show you."

Jack watched as she slowly turned back towards the bed, and bent down. It was fairly high of the ground, and she gently picked up the edge of the bedskirt, lifting it up and revealing a clean, dark space underneath.

"This is it."

A few moments passed in silence.

"Um," Jack said slowly, "I'm… not seeing anything."

Elsa nodded. "That's because I hid it well," she whispered. "I had to keep this in a place where no one would ever find it. No servants, no tutors, no parents. But, once you see it, I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

Jack watched in wonder as she got down on the floor, touching her capelet to disintegrate it. Her eyes were filled with pain, like dark old memories—memories of things that never should have been forced on someone so young—were being woken up for the first time in years.

As she looked back to him, Jack gestured to the space under the bed with his staff.

"So, would you hide from people under there, or…?"

"On, no. That wasn't it at all," she laughed, twisting around and reaching underneath the bedskirt. A new wave of confusion swept over Jack's face as she pulled out a wooden cooking spoon, a box of matches, and a tea candle, setting them beside her, one by one. "This was my—well, my special place. I spent a lot of my childhood and adolescence under here."

He looked again to the darkness under the bed, and to the strange objects on the floor. As Elsa chose a match and began fumbling to brush it against the side of the box, Jack drew in his breath, carefully measuring his words.

"Sounds lonely," he said.

Elsa paused, lying down. "Well—yes," she admitted. "But every day, Anna would knock on my door and ask me if I wanted to build a snowman. It wasn't always at the same time, but she'd usually make her appearance somewhere in-between 3:30 and 4:00 in the afternoon. You know—after the tutors left."

"Good sister."

The end of the match suddenly exploded into flame, spitting slightly, and then calming down into a steady, controllable burn. She picked up the tea candle, lighting it carefully, and then shook out the match.

"I know," Elsa sighed, placing the candle in the dip of the cooking spoon. "And—I couldn't answer—you know, because of my powers, but—as I laid here on the ground and looked to the side, I could always see her feet under the door."

She closed her eyes, pausing for a moment, as if she was savoring the memory. Jack took another step towards her, and she pulled in a long breath, smiling weakly.

"Anna _always_ had the cutest feet," Elsa breathed.

Another few moments of silence.

She shook her head, sighing again, and laid down on the ground, pulling up the bedskirt. Jack swallowed hard, turning around and looking to the door. She had spent her entire childhood and adolescence so hidden away that she couldn't even see her own sister.

They had completely trapped her. But, in that casual comment, her center was shining through again. The young Elsa was so desperate to love that she would watch for the sight of her little sister's feet.

As he looked back to her, his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. She had rolled under the bed, her delicate hand reaching out from the bedskirt and feeling the floor for the handle of the spoon. Jack smiled in spite of himself as he crouched down, carefully pushing it up against her fingers. Her hand closed around it, and Jack watched as the bedskirt lifted a few inches, Elsa pulling the spoon—with the candle sitting on it—underneath the bed after her.

Without saying a word, Jack laid down on the floor as well, carefully setting down his staff. Then, pulling up the bedskirt, he rolled over as well, joining Elsa in the two-foot space under the bed in the faint candlelight.

As he looked back up, he gasped.

On the underside of the bedframe, messily sewn into place in the corners, was an enormous map of Scandinavia, primarily focusing on Arendelle, but including many of the surrounding kingdoms as well. On top of the map were hundreds of strips of parchment, pinned into the map and the wooden bedframe itself. Threads and strings of all different colors wound and twisted over the messy writing on the strips, like a grand web of ideas on the underside of Elsa's childhood bed.

 _Research._

Elsa, lying beside him as the tea candle flickered between them on the spoon, pulled in a deep breath. Jack jolted slightly, his eyes wide, and looked to her.

"Pulling together the stories and accounts, I felt like I was noticing a lot of similarities," she choked, "And I started building this map. There were just—it was all way too consistent to be a legend."

"How so?"

She pointed across his body. Jack looked up and saw a short list, pinned into one of the main wooden planks under the bed.

.

 _white hair_

 _blue eyes_

 _stick (?)_

 _able to fly (wings?)_

 _fun_

 _very old_

 _either with children or completely alone_

 _able to walk through people (angel?)_

 _._

"Wait," he stammered, "This—this a list about _me."_

"Well, I—I had a lot of different theories," Elsa said quietly, gesturing to one of the pieces of parchment in the middle. "But I guess I got _one_ thing right."

Jack's eyes followed her finger and fell onto the very center of the map. There, in the messy scrawl of a teenager struggling to control their script, were four words, written in capital letters.

JACK FROST IS REAL

His heart started pounding. Jack's breath caught as he looked over the surface of the map, between all of the pins and threads, reading the pieces of parchment.

.

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 3/3/1803. Flying man. A#12, P#34_

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 10/15/1702. Snowball fight, white hair. A#2, P#15_

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 12/1/1689. Blue eyes, white hair, freezing pond. A#10, P#8_

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 5/8/1764. Icing trees, thin body. A#7, P#29_

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 1/29/1699. Flying, stick, no further description. A#5, P#18_

 _._

"Where did all of these _come_ from?" he breathed.

"Records," she told him. "You know—from the library."

"Records from _what,_ though?"

Elsa pulled in a long breath, closing her eyes. Finally, not looking at him, she sighed.

"They're records from the old insane asylums, Jack."


	29. Crazy or Evil

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I LIVVVVVVVVVVVVE! I'll explain more after the chapter.**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Dark dark dark dark dark dark DARK. Also, I am NOT a historian, so take everything you're about to read with a grain of salt.**

.

 **.**

 **29: CRAZY OR EVIL**

Jack's heart leapt into his throat. " _Insane asylums?"_ he choked.

Elsa bit her lip, nodding. She pointed to one of the slips of paper.

.

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 4/2/1730. Stick, flying, white hair. A#3, P#12_

 _._

"A 3, P 112," she sighed. _"Asylum number three, Patient number twelve."_

Jack's head was spinning, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. He could practically hear his own heartbeat, hammering violently against the inside of his ribcage, his throat tight with shock. It was—it _couldn't—_ and yet—! Could it really—?

He sucked in a long, pained breath. Elsa turned to him again as he squeezed his eyes shut, then opening them and shaking his head with disbelief.

" _Insane_ people," Jack choked. " _Insane people_ could see me."

There was a pause.

Elsa bit her lip, shifting uncomfortably on the floor next to him.

"Well," she said carefully, "Either _that_ , or… anyone that claimed they'd seen Jack Frost was declared insane."

Jack's heart leapt into his throat again, a wave of nausea sweeping over him.

It was so much to try to take in all at once. For all those years of thinking he was invisible, the decades and decades of people walking straight through his body… and it turned out that there _were_ people who could see him, after all.

Who were then tortured for it.

Elsa let out a bark of bitter laughter, shaking her head as she stared up at the underside of the bedframe again.

" _Patient,"_ she gritted. "What a cynical term."

"What do you mean?"

"Patient implies _healing_. Like, that you're sick, and then you'll get better, and you'll be released. But no one taken into one of those places ever came out. _Patient?"_ she scoffed. " _Prisoner_ was more like it."

She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning her head back onto the floor. Jack turned over and looked at her. She had closed her eyes, as if in pain, and let out a long sigh.

"Getting all of those institutions shut down was one of my first major actions as queen last summer," she said softly. "And I started up a bunch of programs to get those poor people transitioning back into society. The massive release didn't go over well with the Council. But at least it got done."

Jack's eyes slightly widened with the sudden realization. As soon as she had been crowned, this twenty-one-year-old queen had effectively declared war on her so-called Council, simultaneously challenging their power _and_ exposing their foundationless prejudices. No _wonder_ they despised Elsa so much.

She was a threat.

He smirked. Elsa, Queen of Arendelle, was a beautiful young woman who possessed both ideas, _and_ the determination to make them become a reality. My, what could be more terrifying?

It was going to be _fun,_ taking these guys down.

He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again, searching for the right words. After a few moments, he laughed breathily, shaking his head and looking to Elsa again.

"Okay," Jack stammered, "Remember how I said what a great queen you were?"

"Yes?"

He raised his eyebrows, folding his arms behind his head. "This is _exactly_ what I mean."

She smiled weakly, turning and looking into his eyes again.

"Thanks," she whispered. "That—um, that means a lot to me."

Silence fell over the two of them again, and Jack stared back up at the map, reading more of the slips of parchment. It was clearly an endeavor that had taken the young Elsa some time; the handwriting changed subtlety from slip to slip, becoming more controlled and disciplined as she grew.

But never mind how much time this research had taken, or the sheer _amount_ of research that the young girl with ice powers had done on him. It was the fact that _there were accounts to be researched in the first place_ that wasn't sinking in.

Jack let out another long breath of air, closing his eyes as the realization hit him freshly again.

"People could _see me_ ," he choked.

"Well—of _course_ people could see you, Jack!" Elsa exclaimed, propping herself up on an elbow. "I mean, mankind is generally oblivious, and you move really fast, but did you _really_ think that you could be around that long without _anyone_ noticing?"

"I—"

His voice trailed off, and Jack shook his head, his eyes wide with disbelief as he looked over the surface of the map.

Elsa looked to him, leaning towards him on her elbow.

"Jack… you're a _legend,"_ she whispered. _"_ If it was really true that _no one_ could see you, where do you think the legend could have originated from?"

The words sent him reeling again.

To discover that people could see him. To learn what happened to them, if they admitted that they did. To find out that, for _years_ , and without his knowledge or even _suspicion_ , a young girl with ice powers was searching for him, lying under her bed, hidden away behind the locked door of her bedroom.

For every question Elsa answered, another three were raised.

"Okay, so _here's_ something I want to know," Jack blurted. "How did—how did you even _figure out_ that you needed to search the records from _insane asylums_ to find me, anyway? As a general rule, when people go searching for mythological figures, the first place they look _isn't_ in 200-yr-old journals of psychiatric case studies."

She bit her lip, taking in a breath. "When I was ten years old, I—um," she explained. "Well—something happened."

"What do you mean?"

"Just—something," Elsa said quickly, giving her head a quick shake, "Don't worry about it. But I had to use my—I mean, I used my powers," she corrected. "Well, when my father found out, he got upset, because he thought I wasn't trying to control them. So, he wanted to—um—he wanted to try to motivate me a little more."

Jack suddenly felt blood rushing to his face in anger. His eyes narrowing, and using every ounce of willpower that he possessed, he pulled in a long breath.

"What kind of— _motivation_ —are we talking about, here?" he said carefully, struggling to control his voice.

"We went on a little field trip to the library." Elsa rolled over, facing him and leaning on her arm. "He pulled out the oldest volume of insane asylum records to show me what happened to people that were—dangerous. I mean, the actual case studies, with all the interviews and accounts."

She bit her lip, pausing to take in another breath. Jack saw with horror that her beautiful deep eyes were filled with shame again, and she shook her head slightly, continuing.

"He told me that he loved me, and that he didn't want to live to see me chained up in one of those places. So, I…" Elsa closed her eyes, rolling onto her back again and staring up at the underside of the bedframe. "I… um… I needed to learn to control my powers."

Jack's blood boiled.

"You mean," he gritted, "To _suppress_ your powers."

"Jack—"

"—Well, that's just _ducky!_ " he sputtered, "What _inspirational_ parenting!"

"He was doing his best."

"It _WASN'T VERY GOOD!"_ Jack yelled suddenly, slamming his hand against the bedframe.

Light shot out across plank of wood, frost exploding over the corner of the map in sharp spikes and fusing the strips of parchment into a thin layer of rough, uncontrolled crystalline ice. Jack grimaced, and glanced to the side. Elsa had startled back, and he suddenly realized to his horror that she was— _cowering_ from him.

Jack's stomach twisted.

Closing his eyes, he tried to focus, gently placing his palm on top of the ice and pulling off his fingertips like he had in the library. Instead of leaping off of the parchment, however, the ice stayed put, another layer of frost swirling out slowly from his fingertips.

It was no use. He couldn't think about fun _now_.

Not with Elsa looking so afraid of him.

She shifted uncomfortably on the floor again, crossing her arms over her chest. Jack pulled in his breath, looking to her, her body suddenly tense on the ground underneath the bed. Watching intently, he saw her bite her lip, nervously taking in a breath.

"Please don't insult my father," she said quietly.

Jack's face drained of color. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to apologize, but no sound came out.

He coughed, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry," he choked, "I didn't—"

"—It's okay."

They laid together underneath the bed in silence for a few moments. Elsa relaxed slightly, crossing her arms behind her head.

"Anyway…" she started again quietly, "It was—um, it was one of the names. In that first volume's index, when he was showing me. I recognized it."

Jack looked to her and raised his eyebrows, silently asking the natural question. Seeing it, she drew in her breath.

"Gerd Karl Borstad?" she prompted.

The name had no meaning to him. Jack stared in blank confusion at the underside of the bedframe, and then suddenly realized that Elsa was turning over towards him, reaching for something above his head.

He jolted, scooting to the side and flipping over onto his stomach. Looking to where she was reaching, it was then that he realized that, at the base of the headboard, there were half a dozen piles of books. In the faint light, he hadn't even noticed them there before; they were stacked in such a way that they blended almost perfectly with the dark wood of the headboard extending down to the floor behind them. They, like the map, had been hidden in plain sight.

 _Man_ , Elsa was good at concealing things.

Elsa carefully took a thin book off the top of the pile closest to him, placing it on the floor between them. Looking at it, Jack realized that it wasn't even really a book at all, but a fragile, yellowed pamphlet, held together and mended from use by string. The print upon it was heavily faded, but in the candlelight, he could still make out the title.

.

 _DIALOGUE ON BEYINGS OF THE FANTASTIK_

.

"This is the earliest written document referencing Jack Frost that I could find," Elsa said quietly. "Originally published in 1583. This is a reprint from the mid-1600's."

She flipped through the pamphlet's worn pages, finally coming to a place within it that opened almost automatically. She pushed it across the Jack, and he took it. Sure enough, at the top of the page, there was a faded reprint picture of a thin boy with a staff, standing atop a tree branch. His eyes fell onto the title underneath it.

 _The Wyntr Wandryr_

After staring at it, dumbstruck, for a few moments, he shook his head vigorously. His mind racing, he let out a sharp bark of laughter and looked back to Elsa.

" _Dialogue_ , though? Dialogue with _whom?_ Don't tell me he pulled a Galileo," Jack chuckled darkly. "That's a _really_ fast way to get yourself locked up."

"No," she laughed, "No mockery of super-high political or religious figures involved. It was his dialogue with the _Evening Orb._ You know—very symbolic, if you—"

"—MANNY _TALKED_ TO THIS GUY?!"

Elsa pulled in a long breath, her eyebrows raising slightly. "Alright," she said carefully, "Maybe it _wasn't_ symbolic."

"At some point here, you're _really_ going to need to start taking me literally."

"Apparently." She flipped the pamphlet back to its front cover, pointing to the name. "But Gerd Karl Borstad—he was a professor, and he had a lot of publications out on interpretations of mythology. But, in his personal life, he was an avid stargazer."

Jack shrugged. "I guess that would explain how he could spend so much time with the moon."

"I suppose it could. I'll have to reread this… now that I know his introduction wasn't necessarily symbolic," she admitted.

Jack shrugged, smiling wryly as he looked back down at the yellowed pamphlet. After a few more moments of staring at it— _dang_ , it was old—he let out his breath, shaking his head again and glancing back to Elsa.

"I just—I just can't believe it," Jack laughed bitterly. "Manny _talked_ to people."

"Well—apparently, Professor Borstad thought so," she sighed. "He published this pamphlet, and for a while, it wasn't particularly controversial. Everyone thought that it was supposed to be some sort of poetic commentary on ancient mythology, or something. You know—kind of like some sort of modernization. An artistic thing. But then, people started figuring out that he actually _believed_ what he'd written. As you can imagine, he lost his credibility, his freedom, his family…"

Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. Jack swallowed hard, fighting the new wave of nausea sweeping over his body.

"Because he saw Jack Frost," he choked.

"Yes," she said quietly. "But it wasn't seeing you that really caught everyone's attention. It was the Sky Elf story."

"Sky Elf?"

Elsa twisted around on the floor, pulling back the booklet's cover and flipping through its old, worn pages. Finally, she shoved it to Jack, pointing.

"The Sky Elf," she said quietly. She then daintily flicked her hand through the air, gesturing. "With his golden sky-rivers…"

Jack's eyes widened as he stared at the sketch. A tiny, round man with spiked hair in a cloud, the long ribbons twisting and extending out from it…

" _Sandy,"_ he breathed.

A wave off confusion swept over Elsa's face. "Who?"

" _Sandy!_ The Sandman! _That's him!_ " Jack exclaimed. "He could _see_ him?"

"If you say that's the Sandman," she shrugged, "Then yes."

"But why— _how_ —!" Jack shook his head. "This professor—why'd they lock him up?"

"Because he refused to deny the things that he'd seen."

Jack swallowed hard. Then, he shifted himself onto his elbow under the bed, leaning his chin on his fist as he flipped through more of the pamphlet's pages with his other hand. Surely enough, there they were—the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny, followed by a few of the non-Guardians, including Cupid, the Leprechaun, and—

The last page of the pamphlet fell open in front of him. Reprinted and faded from an etching, in the top right corner, there was a tiny picture of a tall, eerily graceful man in a robe.

Jack's heart leapt into his throat, and he abruptly slammed the booklet shut.

He knew who _that_ was. Silently pleading that Elsa hadn't noticed his reaction, his hand still shaking, he then carefully picked the pamphlet up, turning it over to its front. He bit his fist, seeing the author's name again.

"So, they locked him up," Jack said. "Because he wouldn't deny something he saw."

"Basically, yes."

He scoffed, gently pushing the booklet back to her. "Well, that's just _great."_

She took it, placing it on top of the nearest pile of books again. "I actually looked up the court case," Elsa sighed, "It's in the records. They tried him for heresy—you know, for publishing the _Dialogue_. There was a lot of witch-hunt type of stuff going on at the time. When it became clear that he was going to lose, his lawyer plead insanity."

" _Heresy?"_ Jack sputtered. "For _seeing_ _me?_ How on earth does that count as _heresy?"_

"What else would they drag him in for?" Elsa retorted. "The people needed _something_ to pin on the poor man. And I suppose—well—you know how society is, Jack."

"What do you mean?"

"Anyone that can see, or feel, or _do_ things that others can't is considered to be either crazy or evil," she said quietly. "I mean, look—look at _me_. Look at how people _reacted_ to my having ice powers."

Jack fell silent again, pressing his lips together. She hadn't actually told him how people reacted—well, apart from her parents and the counsel, anyway—but he didn't want to know.

It wasn't hard to guess.

He exhaled slowly, flopping over onto his back again and crossing his arms over his chest, staring back up at the colorful threads across the map. There were still so many questions left unanswered…

He took in another deep breath.

"I guess it shouldn't surprise me that some people would have—well— _gifts_. For seeing us," Jack said quietly. "It's just the _reaction_ that I can't swallow. You'd think that people would value someone _more_ for having a gift like that, but instead they—"

"—Tie them down, shut them up, and lock them away," Elsa gritted. "Correct."

Jack's stomach twisted again. "But _why?"_

"It's easier."

" _Easier?"_ he choked, "Easier than _what?"_

"Easier than having to _deal_ with someone being different."

Jack bit his lip, staring at the hundreds of pieces of parchment across the surface of the map above them, shadows dancing across its worn surface from the flickering tea candle in the spoon. In his peripheral vision, he saw Elsa shift on the floor, readjusting her dress and closing her eyes.

"What would this world _look_ like if everyone stopped always going for the easiest choice?" she breathed.

The pain in her voice was almost palpable. Silence fell over the two again, and Jack turned over slightly to look at her, his mind racing, trying to think of what to say.

"It would be beautiful," he whispered.

Elsa nodded. She set her jaw, sucking in a deep breath. "Yeah. It would be," she gritted. "But _instead_ , it's dark, and dank, and murky, and filled to the brim with pain and terror and _hatred!"_

 ** _CRACK!_**

A clump of ice shot out of her chest, smashing into the bedframe above her and shattering. Jack startled, jolting with shock at her sudden passion, and as the soft shower of ice particles fell around her, Elsa sucked in her breath, clasping her hands into her stomach. Her chest rising up and down rapidly, she gasped for breath, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I—I'm sorry," she choked. "I didn't mean to—"

"—You don't have to apologize."

Elsa swallowed hard, looking worried. Jack rolled onto his side, chuckling under his breath.

"I literally did the _same thing,_ Snowflake. Give me a break."

Her eyes widened slightly with the realization. After a few moments, she giggled, a shy, embarrassed little smile spread across her face.

Oh, that smile.

He rolled over onto his back again, letting out a bark of laughter. "We haven't been doing too well on the _controlling ice powers_ thing today—have we?"

"Apparently not."

"Some deep breathing or something might be a good idea," he joked, "You know, before we freeze the whole castle by accident?"

She fidgeted with the fabric on her skirt, looking down and blushing. Jack raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise.

Ouch _._

Lucky guess.

Seeing her sudden embarrassment, he chuckled bitterly, shaking his head.

"A lot of it, though—with the anger thing—it's just a matter of knowing what makes you angry," he admitted. "People hurting kids—that's what really sets me off. More than anything else."

"Hurting kids?" she asked.

"Yeah."

 _Or you,_ Jack thought. _People hurting you._

She was lost in thought, her eyes slightly narrowed with concentration. Then, shifting and adjusting her dress again, her deep eyes softened once more.

"How society _treats_ people who are different. That's what gets me," Elsa sighed. "The _cruelty_. On their own, everybody's usually pretty kind, but put them into a big group, get them a little scared, and…"

Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip again.

"I just…" She closed her eyes. "I just _don't understand it,_ Jack."

They lay on the ground in silence again, the candle on the spoon flickering between them. After a few moments, Jack smiled wryly, glancing in her direction and shrugging.

"Basically, people are horrible," he said casually.

Elsa jolted slightly at the statement with a grin, shaking her head. Then, her smile faded again, and he watched as she looked back up to the map, her expression grave.

He pulled in another breath.

"This world _could_ be a really beautiful place," Jack said softly. "It's true. But, at least for right now, the world can be—pretty awful. You know, with so much hatred and corruption in it."

As he watched her, Jack saw her hard expression shift. She relaxed back down slightly, her eyes deep with sadness.

"But I guess that's the challenge… isn't it?" she sighed.

"What is?"

She shifted uncomfortably on the floor, the candlelight dancing across her pointed features and sending flickering shadows across the contours of her face. Then, with a weak hint of a smile, she turned and looked to him, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Learning the see the beauty anyway," Elsa whispered.

Jack's breath caught.

The young queen relaxed back onto the floor, looking to the map above her again and then closing her eyes. Her expression was pensive; pained, but with the tiniest hint of hope in it as she descended into her own thoughts, her thick braid thrown carelessly across the floor and the cloth of her icy gown sparkling in the light. She had the body of a twenty-one-yr-old, along with the passionate, fiery spirit of someone who had recently risen to power at such a young age, but Elsa spoke like an ancient. And after having _been_ through so much, too…

He folded his arms behind his head, staring up at the underside of the bedframe, the last two lines of the conversation playing on repeat in his mind.

 _The world can be pretty awful. With so much hatred and corruption in it,_ he heard his own voice say.

 _But I guess that's the challenge... isn't it?_ Elsa's responded. _Learning to see the beauty anyway._

Jack looked again to the young woman beside him. She laid on the ground underneath the sprawling map, lost in thought, the ice particles in her braid sparkling in the candlelight.

He could see it.

.

.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I LIIIIIIVE! Also, I'm going to start putting the Author's Notes at the END, because they're getting longer and longer and more distracting. Hope this works for everybody. As for my absence—so sorry! If you count tomorrow (ONE—MORE—EXAM—GAUGH!), in the last two weeks, I've had three enormous exams and a big conference, where I presented some laser research. The conference was awesome, but I've REALLY missed the insanely supportive world of fanfic. Did I ever tell 'yal how FANTASTIC you are?! BECAUSE YOU ARE. (Hooray!) Thanks for reading, thanks for being awesome, and I hope you have a fantabulous day!**


	30. Ice Powers Fantastic

**30: ICE POWERS FANTASTIC**

"But here's another question," Jack started again, drumming his fingers on his stomach, "The people that saw me—why would they just be locked away? Wouldn't anyone—you know—try to get me back? Test out the theory, or something?"

Elsa shot him a forced, bitter smile, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Because everybody _knows_ people can't have powers over ice and snow," she sighed. "Everybody _knows_ people can't rise from the dead. Everybody _knows_ people can't fly. Everybody knows that people like us… _monsters_ …"

She paused, shaking her head with a sigh.

"We _can't_ actually _exist,"_ she finished.

"Why not?"

"Oh, Jack…" Elsa rolled over a bit, a bitter, forced smile on her face. "Everybody _knows_ that monsters _aren't real."_

He fell silent again, seeing the pain in her eyes. After a few moments, Elsa sighed, rolling back over on the floor and looking up to the underside of the bedframe again.

"And then I was," she said quietly.

There was aother long, painful pause.

Jack glanced to the side, pulling in a deep breath and carefully measuring his words.

"Kinda makes you wonder what everybody will think they know tomorrow," he said softly.

"Yeah." Elsa nodded slowly, continuing to stare up at the map. "Kinda does."

The Ice Powers Girl folded her arms across her chest, closing her eyes. Her lips pressed together tightly, she let out her breath, her beautiful face filled with pain once more. Jack's stomach twisted.

 _Just a little fun magic,_ he found himself thinking, _While she isn't looking… just a tiiiiiiny little snowfla—wait. NO._

Resisting the urge, he readjusted his arms to grip his hands together behind his head. _No magic_. Not right now. _Definitely_ not without telling her. And besides… there were too many questions left to be answered.

He looked back up to the map, pulling in another breath.

"So… the threads," he started slowly. "I was just noticing. They're all different colors. Is there a reason, or…?"

His voice trailed off, and he looked back to her.

"Are they color-coded?" Elsa smiled, finally turning over to face him again. "Yeah."

"How so?"

"Connecting characteristics between the accounts," she explained. "You know, to help me sort out the ones that really _were_ just stories."

He raised his eyebrows, a tiny smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. Focusing on a white string, he followed it with his eyes, looking at the knots and pins linking the strips of parchment together.

.

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 10/30/1813. Flying, white hair. A#2, P#304_

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 1/25/1732. Snowball fight, thin body, white hair, staff. A#2, P#15_

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 12/3/1692. Blue eyes, white hair, freezing pond. A#8, P#60_

 _._

"White string for white hair, right?" he asked.

Elsa's face broke into a smile, and she nodded. Jack's heart leapt, seeing the happy expression returning to her features once again.

 _There_ it was.

 _Alrighty, Snowflake. Research a happier topic?_ Jack thought. _Let's talk research._

He grinned, awkwardly scooting himself down towards the foot of the bed on the floor. Elsa laughed into her hand, and he looked back up, selecting a yellow thread and tracing it with his finger, reading the strips of parchment that were strung together underneath it.

.

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 3/7/1823. Dancing on frozen lake. Alone. A#13, P#304_

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 3/15/1702. Snowball fight, white hair. A#2, P#25_

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 12/10/1778. Freezing streets, laughing, thin body, staff . A#8, P#80_

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 11/8/1734. With sledding children, walking through. A#22, P#82_

 _Jack Frost. Sighted 1/9/1695. Swirling snow, no further description. A#16, P#58_

.

He glanced back to Elsa, raising his eyebrows.

"Yellow for fun?" he asked.

She nodded, beaming. Jack's heart leapt again, looking up from his upside-down position on the floor as her cerulean eyes shined in the flickering candlelight. The pink flush of her pale cheeks, the slight tint of gold in her hair, and that— _smile._

Elsa's teeth were as white as freshly fallen snow, too.

After a long pause, Jack jolted slightly, his eyes snapping back into focus. Letting out a soft laugh and shaking his head, he flopped over onto his stomach.

"Why yellow?" he asked.

Elsa shrugged, propping herself up onto an elbow. "It seemed like a sunshiny type of color."

He let out a sharp bark of laughter, awkwardly crawling back up towards the headboard on his forearms. " _Sunshine?"_ he scoffed. "Boring. I mean, when you could have a _blizzardy_ kind of sky."

"I supposed I could see that. I mean—I prefer blizzards, too," she admitted. "Sunshine is nice, but snow clouds are—well, they're exciting. When I didn't put them there by accident."

His face only a few inches from hers again, Jack raised his eyebrows, grinning mischievously. "In that case," he said, leaning close into her ear, "Let the storm rage on."

She laughed softly, looking down. The Ice Powers Girl opened her mouth to begin to say something, and Jack then saw her let out another nervous little laugh, shaking her head.

 _"Whaaaaaat?"_ Jack teased. He reached forward, gingerly picking up her braid and giving it a gentle tug. "I know that look, Snowflake. What are you thinking?"

 _Her hair is really soft._

"I just—I guess it—um," she said quickly, "It's just a—a change. A paradigm shift.—since the last time I was under here. You know? I mean, I—I could _control_ it, but I just—I never thought—!"

Elsa stopped abruptly, shakily pulling in a deep breath. Nervously fidgeting with her fingers, she then shook her head again, and hesitantly looked back into Jack's eyes.

"Ice powers— _good_ ," she stammered.

The statement caught Jack completely off guard.

Hiding it, he grinned sheepishly, taking her hand off the floor and holding it in his own. She didn't pull away. Playing with her fingers for a moment, he then looked back up into her eyes.

"Ice powers _fantastic,_ ma'am," he whispered.

She blushed again, smiling shyly as Jack kissed the back of her hand, peering up at her through his eyelashes. He then set it down, rolling over onto his back again and looking to the threads.

Just as he was about to select another colored thread, Jack heard Elsa give a quick gasp. He jerked his head back around, and realized that she was lying on the ground, her head back, covering her face with her hands. She started giggling uncontrollably, her entire body trembling as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry—I—I just," she laughed breathily, shaking her head and blushing furiously. "I _never thought_ I'd be doing this. Here."

"Doing what?"

"Um," Elsa gasped. "I—Jack, I spent five _years_ of my adolescence working on this map. Before then, I memorized everything about you in every storybook I could find. It was—it was so many _years_ of dreaming, and now—we're—you're—!"

She took her hands away from her face, running her fingers into her hair. Jack raised his eyebrows, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth as Elsa sucked in a trembling breath, looking to him, and then shaking her head vigorously again.

" _Jack. Frost,"_ she giggled breathlessly. "I am _showing this._ To _Jack. Frost._ I just—I—I can't— _!"_

She cupped her hands over her eyes, rolling over onto her back again and shaking her head, gasping for breath. Jack grinned sheepishly, feeling a little blood rushing to his face.

"Well—um," he said softly, "It's—it's kind of eye-opening for me, too. I'm really grateful you brought me here."

"Sure. Anytime," she stammered between gasps, her blush going deeper in its hue. She shook her head again, pulling her hands down from her eyes and onto her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I just—okay, if I could go back in time—to the ten-year-old me—and tell her that she would someday be lying under her map with _Jack Frost,_ just, you know, having a _conversation_ , and—"

"—Wait, the _WHAT_ year old you?"

She abruptly stopped giggling, her face going pale.

"Never mind," she said quickly.

"How old were you?"

"It doesn't matter, Jack!"

"You said _ten years old,_ didn't you?"

Elsa's face flushed, and she bit her lip, nervously looking down at her dress and fidgeting with the seam. After a long, painful pause, Jack shook his head and let out a long sigh.

"Sifting through two-hundred-year-old psychiatric records for references to an invisible dead man _,"_ he breathed. "What a perfectly _appropriate_ hobby for a young girl."

"But that was what made me happy!" Elsa protested. "And, given everything going on when I was ten, I don't think it's _that_ absurd. It made perfect sense for me."

" _Ten years old?_ Seriously?" he sputtered. "That's when kids are _supposed_ to be squeezing out the last bit of fun from childhood. The last hurrah, before the hormones hit. You were _supposed_ to be out playing. Having a good time. You know," he scoffed, "With _friends?_ Ever heard of them? _"_

"The Jack Frost theories _were_ my friends," she said quietly. "And, think about it. It's not like I was allowed to go _outside,_ or anything. I couldn't even see my sister. What else could I have been doing?"

"Yes, what else could a ten-year-old princess _possibly_ have been doing with her free time?"

Elsa didn't respond.

" _Look_ ," Jack sighed, shaking his head, "I—this is all very flattering, and all. That you were researching me. But the reason why you were doing it—it's _horrifying_ , Elsa."

A long, painful silence fell over them.

Finally, Elsa pulled in a deep breath, still avoiding eye contact. She stared determinately up at the map.

"I was doing it because I needed hope," she choked.

"Yeah. It never should have been stolen from you."

She went quiet again. After a few moments, Jack scoffed again, gingerly touching the wooden plank above his face.

"I mean—not to mention," he said darkly, "That's—um—that's a _solid wood_ bed frame. How on _earth_ did you even push the pins in? Those are lady fingers you've got there, Snowflake. I can't even begin to imagine the amount of time invested here."

Elsa smiled bitterly, reaching over and carefully picking up the tea candle from off the spoon. She set it on the ground, and Jack watched as she grasped the spoon's handle, picking it up.

"Doubles as a hammer," she said, tossing it to herself. "And then I carved out a bit of the handle for some extra leverage, when that wasn't working. An actual tool would have gone missing, but—well, in a castle this size? Nobody missed the spoon."

Jack raised his eyebrows, letting out a sharp bark of laughter. Elsa smiled sheepishly, setting the spoon back down and rolling over on the floor again as he ran his fingers through his white hair.

"I've gotta hand it to you," he laughed, shaking his head. "You were—one— _heck—_ of an ten-year-old."

She shrugged, blushing slightly. "Technically, I was working on this map until I was fifteen."

"Oh. _Well_ , then," he retorted, "I stand corrected. _Totally_ normal behavior."

"That's a relief."

"Actually, that was sarcasm."

"Humor me."

"No."

The silence fell again as the two stared up at the hundreds of slips of parchment pinned into the map on the underside of the bedframe.

.

.

"So, it's brown for the staff, blue for my eyes, yellow for fun, white for white hair, red for flying, pink for anything related to smiling, and purple for walking through people?"

"Right." Elsa smiled, shaking her head. "Clearly, by the end, I was running out of ideas. And colors."

Jack let the purple thread slip off the end of his finger, and it _twanged_ back into place over the slips of parchment and the map. Pushing himself back up towards her on the floor, he looked to Elsa again, grinning. "What, pink for my smile isn't the first color that you would have chosen?" he chuckled. "You don't say."

"Actually, _that_ one actually kind of makes sense," she retorted. "I mean—you know—people would talk about your teeth some, but pink is for lips, right?"

He shrugged. "I guess I could see that."

"Except… well, now that I'm looking at them," Elsa mused, rolling over and propping herself up, "I guess they're a bit lighter than that."

"My lips?"

"Yeah." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied his face. "They're more of a violet type of pink, rather than a deep pink like the string. I mean, a lot of people would mention to teeth, and some would say that you had thinner, longer lips, but it wasn't all that clear, in the accounts. Most people saw you from far away, so your mouth wasn't really that visible."

" _Thinner, longer lips?"_ Jack sputtered.

"I'd say they're more normal-sized, honestly."

Jack raised his eyebrows, gingerly reaching up and touching them. After a few moments, he shook his head, chuckling softly under his breath.

"I'm actually sort of creepily impressed," he said. "You've analyzed my mouth even more carefully than Tooth. I didn't think that was possible."

"Tooth?"

"Oh—right. That's the—"

"—Tooth Fairy?" Elsa finished.

He grinned. "Correct."

She shrugged, smiling. "Just assume that every mythical person you've ever heard of is real?"

"Pretty much."

"So… let's see," she said, counting on her fingers, "Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, the Easter Bunny, Cupid, Bigfoot—"

"—Actually, his name is Phil."

"Of course it is."

Jack chuckled, folding his arms behind his head and looking to her with a sly glint in his gaze. "Regarding my lips, though," he said, "I'd say you only left one thing out."

"Oh?"

He leaned in a little closer to her, raising his eyebrows.

"They taste _fantastic_ ," he whispered dramatically. Jack winked. " _Just_ so you know."

Elsa startled back a bit and laughed, rolling her eyes. "Thanks for informing me."

"You're not going to just _believe_ me, are you?"

"Oh, I think you're pretty trustworthy."

Reaching over his foot, Jack playfully flicked the hem of her dress with his toe. "Request permission to persuade you otherwise?"

"DENIED."

"Aww..."

Elsa laughed again, shaking her head. "What am I going to _do_ with you, Jack Frost?"

He scooted a few inches towards her on the floor. "Do I get to offer suggestions?"

Her eyes widening at the sudden closeness, the Ice Powers Girl opened her mouth to say something, and then blushed furiously, closing it again. Letting out a breathy _tsk_ of a laugh, she then groaned in frustration and collapsed back onto the carpet, cupping her hands over her eyes. Jack grinned, rolling back and folding his arms behind his head.

They both stared up at the map again, the colored threads twisting messily in an enormous web above them.

"So… here's another question for you," Jack started, reaching up and tracing a purple thread. "Apparently, people saw me walking through other people—and, uh, vice-versa. And then testified about it, in the various records. That didn't—did that not _scare_ you, or…?"

His voice trailed off, and he looked to her again, letting his hand fall back onto his stomach. She pulled in a quick breath, shrugging slightly.

"Well," she admitted, "To be completely honest, I—I thought that you were some sort of spirit. A ghost or something—it was one of my theories about you. Like, that you were not really a physical being."

His eyebrows lifted slightly. He wasn't expecting _that,_ but—well, given the context and the accounts, it made sense.

Elsa worked _really_ hard to make things make sense.

A smile twitched out of the side of Jack's mouth as he stared at the underside of the bed frame. Glancing towards her, he crept his hand over to Elsa's on the floor, and gently placed his on top of her own. Then, interlacing his fingers with hers, he laughed softly.

"You're a fantastic researcher, but you may _rest assured_ , Snowflake," Jack chuckled, "I am—very— _definitely—_ a physical being."

She blushed slightly, but didn't pull away. Jack smiled, tracing his fingers over hers as the wave of relief swept over him again at the touch of her skin. It was pale, just like his, and cooler than most people's. Even though he usually couldn't actually feel them, when Jack was close to another person, he could feel the slight heat radiating form their body, so he knew that Elsa—despite being warmer than he was—was unusual. And her skin was _soft_ , too. It was soft, like her hair. Like her heart. Soft. _Everything_ about her was soft. Touching her, touching soft; it was _WONDERFUL,_ and her hand was delicate, just like her slender wrist was, and—

"Um—Jack?"

He jolted, his eyes snapping back into focus. The Ice Powers Girl swallowed hard, looking to her hand, and then nervously meeting his gaze again.

"Can I—um," she choked softly, "Can I please have my hand back?"

Jack felt his throat tighten with embarrassment. Letting out a nervous, breathy laugh as blood rose to his face, he then shook his head vigorously, rolling back over onto the floor.

 _Smooth._

"I—wait," Elsa stammered, "Was that—! I—?"

Jack looked to her in confusion. "Was that _what?"_ he asked.

"I—um—!"

Her voice trailed off. After a few moments, Jack watched as Elsa pulled in her breath, hesitantly looking into his eyes.

"Was that—um," she choked, dropping her voice to a whisper. "I—Jack, were you—flirting at me? Just now?"

The Spirit of Winter raised his eyebrows.

After a few moments, he burst out laughing, shaking his head and rolling over towards her to pick up her hand again. "Gee, Snowflake, I don't know. You tell me," he retorted, grinning as he played with her fingers.

"I—I'm sorry," Elsa stammered, "I'm just—I'm bad at this. I can't tell when—"

"—Oh, come _on_. Give yourself a break," Jack laughed, giving her hand a final squeeze before releasing it. "You're doing fine."

"I can't flirt."

"Then I'll do it for you?"

Elsa's mouth fell open in shock as Jack grinned, rolling onto his back again to look upwards. After a few moments of starting back up at the map, his gaze found its way to the list of characteristics again, and—

Wait.

"Hold up," he said, "So, when I first met you—was it because of—?"

"Did I recognize you from the accounts?" she asked, visibly grateful for a chance to change the subject. "Well—eventually, yes, but not at first."

"And you thought you were dreaming."

"Wouldn't anyone?"

To this, Jack shrugged. "I guess I could see that," he admitted. "But—uh—what do you mean? When you said you didn't recognize me at first? I thought I was pretty straightforward with you about who I was."

She blushed slightly, fidgeting with her fingers. "I—um—I guess I was pretty set on my Little Old Man theory."

" _Little Old Man_ Theory?"

Elsa shook her head, laughing softly. "Yes," she said, leaning down and reaching for a larger piece of parchment. She carefully unpinned it, handing it to him. "I'm not much of an artist, but—well—putting together the consistencies, I came up with this. It was my best guess at what you looked like."

Holding it up in the faint candlelight, Jack looked at the picture. It was a tiny painting of an old man, holding a cane. He was flying, it appeared, with enormous swan-like wings, matching his chalked-white hair and long beard.

Jack exhaled slowly.

"You—um," he said, "You thought my staff—was a _cane?"_

"Oh, come _on,"_ Elsa retorted, "You have to admit it makes _sense._ You had white hair, the accounts went back for hundreds of years, you carried a stick…"

Her voice trailed off. Jack closed his eyes, as if in pain, and readjusted himself on the floor. Shaking his head, he then turned over, and handed the painting of the bent little old man back to Elsa.

"I feel _really_ old right now," he groaned.

"Um," she said softly, "Jack—with all due respect, you—um, you _are_ really old."

"Not helping, Snowflake."

"It's interesting! In fact—let's see. Now that I know _your_ age," she mused absent-mindedly, "And if you approximate _my_ age as twenty—"

"—OH, no," Jack interrupted, clapping his hands over his ears, "You're doing Creepy Math. _Please_ not the Creepy Math—"

"Fiftee—wait," she paused, turning to him, "How old were you when you died?"

He took his hands down, turning to her. "North says I was about nineteen on his records."

Elsa shrugged. "Okay, so that's about twenty—"

"—Not listening!"

"If you divide it by—"

"— _STILL NOT LISTENING—!"_

"— _Sixteen_ times my age!"

"—THAAAAAAA FIIIIIIRST NO-EHHHHHHHHL," Jack yelled suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his hands into his ears, "THEEEEEE AAAAAAAAANGEL DID SAAAAAAAAY—"

"Jack, it's not a big deal," Elsa laughed. "I just think it's interesting. I mean, without the approximation, it's really closer to _fifteen,_ but it's not like it _matters_ to me."

He abruptly stopped singing, taking his hands down from his ears and looking to her desperately.

"Okay, what I said about flirting with you two minutes ago," he choked, "I take it back. I take it _all back._ I was _not_ flirting with you. In fact, I was not even _touching_ you, and I was definitely, absolutely, _not_ about to hit on you with another _brilliant_ sexual innuendo that had just occurred to me. I would like you to know that I _was_ , in fact, reading you a story and sending you to bed."

" _Excuse_ me?" Elsa laughed, "It's only about four in the afternoon! Also, _wow._ "

"Yes. _Far_ past your bedtime, young missy."

"Not likely, Gramps."

"You need to respect your elders, whippersnapper."

"I don't need to do a darned thing you say, old man."

Jack gasped dramatically, looking to her with a feigned expression of hurt as the Ice Powers Girl giggled. Then, he raised his eyebrows. "Keep _talking back_ to me and I'll have to give you a spanking," he chuckled. Jack then dropped his voice a few tones, beginning to fold his arms behind his head as a little smirk crossed his face. "Or maybe I'll give you one anyway- _OW!_ "

Recoiling in pain, he sharply sucked in his breath, clutching his ankle in his hands as Elsa pulled back her foot from the kick. Jack rolled over onto his side.

" _SHOES!_ " he sputtered, " _POINTY SHOES—why so pointy—AURGH!"_

"Huh," Elsa mused. "They double as a weapon. I think I like these heels even more now."

 _"The line,"_ Jack gasped, "I crossed it, didn't I?"

"You think?"

He grinned sheepishly, letting out a nervous laugh as he rolled onto his back again. "Honestly, though," Jack chuckled, gingerly releasing his foot and stretching it out again, "I—I still feel like—well, like my age kind of stopped. North said that I was nineteen on his records, before I died."

On the floor next to him, Elsa shrugged. "So… you're like… three hundred-something, _and_ nineteen. At the same time."

"Yeah. Go figure."

Elsa shook her head, letting out a nervous laugh and looking into his eyes. "And if I'm twenty-one," she said slowly, "Who's robbing the cradle, then, you or me?"

" _Robbing the cradle!?"_

"Oh, forget about it."

" _FORGET about it?"_ Jack sputtered. "It's _that EASY?_ You mean, we can just _forget_ about the fact that I'm—a _lot_ —of times your age?"

"If we're _really_ the only existing male and female of our species—as we've defined it," she giggled, "Do our ages _really_ matter?"

"Well, when you say it like _that—!"_

She laid her head back onto the floor, rolling her eyes and laughing. As Jack looked into her beautiful face—feeling the heat of embarrassment in his own—he felt a strange wave of relief sweep over him, accompanying his sudden self-consciousness. If she'd told him that she, like the Guardians, was actually a few hundred years old, he would have believed it in an instant. But she was only twenty-one. No matter how old she acted, she was still blasted _TWENTY-ONE._ While he was—older. Even though she didn't seem to care.

At least it was all _out_ there, now.

"Well—I guess all those _years_ should make more sense now _,"_ he mumbled. "I mean, why this would be such a shock. I thought—I thought _no one_ could see me. And all I really needed to do was to go and find the insane asylums. I spent three hundred years in _total isolation from everyone_ for no reason."

Elsa's breath caught.

"What… did you say?" she gasped.

Jack's eyes widened, his throat going tight.

 _NO! NOOOOOOO, no, no, no, no, no, no, keep smiling!_

Maybe he could shrug it off. Jack forced a grin. "Elsa, I _told_ you that I was invisible," he chuckled nonchalantly. "It's not a big—"

"—I thought you were meaning it figuratively," she choked. "You were—no one ever saw—?"

His heart leapt into his throat. Jack bit his lip, feeling blood rushing to his face as the old wounds ripped open again. He wanted so badly to keep her laughing, smiling, _smiling_ at him, but…

Well… he couldn't really _lie,_ either.

Jack closed his eyes, as if in pain, and pulled in a long breath. He nodded slowly, saying nothing, but letting the silence envelop them again in the sputtering candlelight under the bed.

A few more moments passed.

"And I walked through you," Elsa breathed.

Jack's stomach twisted, hearing the agony in her voice. He pulled in another quick breath, turning to look at her. Elsa's face had drained of color, and she stared intently into his eyes, her mouth slightly open with horror. His heart leapt into his throat again, seeing the pain in her expression as snowflakes began to materialize in the air all around them, falling softly onto the carpet.

"It's—it's okay. Don't worry about it," he stammered. "I mean, you—you were just trying to protect Arende—"

"—And _I. Walked. Through you."_

The silence fell again. More snowflakes were materializing around her, her face pale in the candlelight.

"You were in _Extended Isolation,"_ she quavered. "For _three hundred years."_

He shifted uncomfortably on the floor, letting out a nervous laugh. "You're making it sound so _official_."

"In Arendelle, it's legally considered to be a torture technique, Jack."

He opened his mouth to try to say something again, but just like it had before, no sound came out. Elsa rolled over, propping herself up onto her elbows, her soft blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight as she stared into his own.

"Jack," she choked, "I am—I am _so_ sorry—I—if there was any way that I could go back and—"

"— _Elsa,_ it's _okay,_ alright?"

He folded his arms tightly over his chest, struggling to keep his expression calm. The pain was fresh again, the wound being ripped open from the memory, as if he was feeling the billowing tail of Elsa's capelet rushing through his body one more. There wasn't even a word strong enough to describe the pain of that experience.

Which was—he struggled to tell himself— _exactly_ why Elsa didn't need to know that he'd felt it.

 _But_ …

"You know that you can tell me—if talking helps," she said softly. "Right?"

He froze. The Ice Powers Girl scooted an inch closer to him, gingerly placing her hand on top of his.

"Please?" she whispered.

Jack bit his lip, his throat going a bit tight with shock. This beautiful young queen, with her kingdom and her powers and a very dark past of her own—she wanted to know about _his?_

 _If you want Elsa to open up to you,_ North's voice played in his mind, _It might be a good idea to try opening yourself up to her._

Feeling Elsa's hand on his own, her expectant gaze on his face, Jack swallowed hard. Closing his eyes, and then opening them again, he pulled in a deep breath.

 _Well,_ he thought, _I guess—here I go, North._

He looked to the stunningly beautiful young queen beside him, propped up on her elbows in the cramped space underneath her childhood bed.

 _Here goes nothing._

 _._

 _._

 **AUTHOR'S (lengthy, long-winded, borderline disturbingly enthusiastic) NOTE:**

 **1\. One hundred follows?! ONE HUNDRED FOLLOWS, ON THE WEEK OF MY BIRTHDAY?! AAAAAH, I love you all! THANK YOU SO MUCH—best birthday gift EVER! :D**

 **2\. I went ahead and put a new summary on for the story—I'm not sure if I like it or not. Opinions are appreciated!**

 **3.** **Just sticking a general THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS AND STUFF here! You have no idea how much your kind and wonderful words mean to me, and I LOVE YOU ALL!**

 **4\. Okay, so, I did a LOT of "writing ahead" this week, and—OOOOOOH, I am so excited about some of the upcoming plot twists! Do you have ANY idea how tempting it is to skip forward about 300,000 words, just so everybody can freak out over the drama with me? Oooo, I'm so stoked—basically, regarding the movies and everybody's backstory, I intend to explain— _everything._ Ice Alliance, for the record, _has hardly even gotten STARTED._ And the plot is going to be SO INSANELY INSANE THAT I CAN'T WAIT TO GET TO THE SECOND HALF EVEN THOUGH WE'RE, LIKE, MAYBE ONE TENTH OF THE WAY THROUGH so please stick with me, everybody, because we've got a LOT of ground to cover here. If you've actually been liking this so far (I still can't believe that people do!)… you ain't seen NOTHIN' YET, folks! :D AAAAAUGH, I AM HAVING SO MUCH FUNNNNNNNNNNN THANK YOU FOR ALL BEING HERE AND JUSTIFYING MY SECRET HOBBY!**

 **5.** **As for content of the next chapter, I am going to warn you right here and now: Despite the fact that the plot has hardly even gotten started, the upcoming chapter—"The Demon of Burgess"—is, arguably, one of THE VERY DARKEST ONES. ("Butterflies," which we'll get to in maybe 200,000 more words, is probably darker, but... yeah. Dark dark dark dark DARK.) There's a lot of intense stuff coming up in this fic, but the backstory I'm giving to Jack—well, you'll see what I mean. There's a reason Jack cries so easily. (Watch his expressions in ROTG. Notice how** _ **often**_ **his eyes tear up?)** _ **You have been warned—**_ **and we are now about to dive into one of the very darkest parts of Ice Alliance. As North would say: BUCKLE UP!**


	31. The Demon of Burgess

**CONTENT WARNING: Okay, two things… FIRST, I want you to know that I am very, VERY Christian. There is a character in the next two chapters, though, that _does very-much-NOT-Christian things, in the name of Christianity._ Basically, he's a complete fraud—you'll see what I mean. I just wanted to make the point here that these chapters are NOT meant to be anti-priesthood, but are meant to be anti- _priestcraft_. (Priestcraft is… really, really bad!) At the same time, though, in _this_ case, I also want to make it clear that I'm not trying to go into religious philosophy in the story; I am using Christianity as part of the cultural setting of where the action is taking place (Renaissance Western Europe). Basically, in terms of the religion in Ice Alliance: don't try to think about this too hard. SECOND: I re-iterate that this chapter and the next—filling out more of (my version of) Jack's backstory—are _about as dark as it's going to get_. But, after we get through his backstory (give me a couple chapters—I've already had to divide up this one for being too long), it ends on an up note. I really love playing with the juxtaposition of extreme darkness with extreme light. Just be warned. Love ya all, and please don't hate me for writing this! LIGHTER STUFF IS COMING BACK, I PROMISE!**

 **.**

 **.**

 **31: THE DEMON OF BURGESS**

" _HELP! Somebody! PLEASE!"_

 _But no one heard him. The gangly, white-haired boy looked frantically around himself in desperation, searching for something to knock over, ANYTHING, to get these people's attention. The woman had gone into labor. She'd actually GONE INTO LABOR, and now she was lying on the floor inside the cottage, completely alone, while the few people in the village who were outside rushed by, completely unaware. The snow swirled harder and stronger, the howling wind swallowing up the screams of agony from within the little house._

 _He had just been trying to get her to see him._

 _At first, the peasant woman hadn't noticed the delicate layer of frost spiraling across the surface of the table. When he'd started writing in it with his finger, though, she had startled back in shock, slipping and falling down in terror. And then she was in labor. It had all happened so fast. He didn't even realize it_ could _happen that fast. Jack didn't know who this woman was, but he'd felt such a strange connection with her, with this cottage, that he'd gotten desperate. Desperate trying to make her see him, that was. And now, she AND the child were in mortal danger, while the winter storm raged outside, growing stronger and stronger in the darkness of the night._

 _How could he have been so stupid?_

 _Jack stumbled through the fierce wind towards a gate near the side of the house, the swirling air ripping at his tattered brown cape. The snow of the growing storm wasn't blinding, but if he didn't act quickly, it would be. He would have gone inside and tried to help her himself, but in his confusing state, unseen, unable to reach out to_ anyone, _there was nothing that he could do but watch in horror as she had fallen._

 _Catching the edge of the house, he pulled himself beyond it, fighting the growing power of the storm. Looking up, he gasped._

 _A man was coming towards the gate._

 _Jack stumbled back a step, frantically looking around himself. There was a pile of firewood by the cottage. Running over to it as the man approached, he threw down his staff and grasped one of the logs towards the bottom, pulling on it with all his strength. As he jerked it out, the other logs collapsed with a crash, rolling across the ground._

 _Fighting the storm himself, the man clutched his cloak tighter around him, his graying brown hair whipping in the wind as he locked the gate. He had a shepherd's crook as well, tucked under his arm. As he turned around and looked up, he suddenly saw the firewood logs, rolled out from their pile across the ground._

 _A look of horror swept over the man's face. Jack watched desperately as he then fought his way towards the house through the snow, snatching up a few logs as he went. And then he stopped._

 _Jack held his breath. They were right next to the cottage. Maybe he could hear the woman inside now. Maybe he was close enough to—_

 _"Hazel?" the man gasped._

 _Jack moved out of the way as the man's eyes widened. Stumbling back a step, the man dropped the logs, running for the door of the house._

 _"HAZEL!"_

 _._

 _._

 _"How is she doing?"_

 _The tired-looking man collapsed into the chair, running his fingers through his hair and leaning onto the table in front of him. He had a muscular but thin body, with pointed features, his eyes crinkled from years of smiling and laughter._

 _But he clearly wasn't laughing now._

 _The first man, wearing a cloak, leaned in close to his friend again, placing a mug of frothy liquid in front of him._

 _"Is Hazel alright?" he tried again._

 _"My wife?" The tired-looking man nodded weakly, pulling in a deep breath and reaching for the drink. "She's alive. I'm just grateful that we were able to get the midwife here in time. But her condition is worsening."_

 _Lifting the mug to his lips, he took in a long drink. The few villagers in the room that had been listening cast their eyes down again, returning to their hushed conversations. They had come to be present for the birth—as was customary in this village, despite the raging snowstorm outside. But now they could see that the father was not in the mood to talk to them. It was apparent in his eyes, what had happened._

 _The man in the cloak—clearly the father's friend—pulled in a deep breath, his eyes wide with concern. "And the child?"_

 _The father bit his lip, slowly looking up. After a few moments, he shook his head._

 _Jack's blood ran cold. Squeezing his eyes shut again as the nausea swept over him, he tried to swallow his heart back down. She was—she was a tiny woman, this Hazel, compared to many. And she seemed a little skittish. Maybe she would have gone into labor early anyway. Maybe it wasn't his fault._

 _It wasn't his fault._

 _It WASN'T_ _his fault._

 _…_ _Right?_

 _He had stayed outside the room, nervously pacing and tossing his staff back and forth between his hands, during the delivery. It was apparent that the custom in this village was that men weren't allowed in for the birth, so despite his invisibility, he had stayed outside out of respect. However, just as anxious as the father, he had run in just as soon as the child had been born. He had gone in to make sure that everything, despite his stupidity, was okay. And it was—for about ten minutes._

 _Then it wasn't._

 _"Oh, Ezra…" the first man sighed. "I am so sorry."_

 _"It was a boy." The man in the chair shook his head, closing his eyes. "It was a boy. He could have taken my place and led the village, when I was too old. You know… since Jackson can't anymore."_

 _The man—this Ezra—sighed, the pain visible in the contours of his face. The other man pulled his cloak around him, and nodded slowly. "Jackson would have made a great leader."_

 _"Yes," Ezra breathed. He shakily felt the mug's handle, then grasping it and beginning to take another drink. "He would have."_

 _A silence fell over them, as if they were completely alone in the room, instead of surrounded by the villagers. Across from them, Jack silently leapt up onto the table, the wood softly creaking under his weight._

 _Ezra glanced up from the mug for a moment, his deep eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to locate the source of the sound. Finding nothing unusual, after a moment, he let out his breath, shaking his head slightly and taking another drink._

I feel like I know you, _Jack thought, creeping towards them and gazing into the man's tortured face._ Why do I feel like I know you?

 _Readjusting himself on the table and supporting himself with his staff, Jack watched as Ezra slowly moved his head down, a hint of a smile tugging on the edge of his lips as he met his friend's gaze again._

 _"If you could ever pry the children off of him," he mumbled._

 _The man in the cloak let out a sharp bark of laughter. "OH, yes," he laughed, "That could have been a problem. Remember that time when half of the youngsters went missing, and then we found them all out weeding Mrs. Kortson's plot at eleven o'clock at night?"_

 _"Because Jackson convinced them it was a game?"_

 _The man drew himself up, waving his arms and playfully imitating a child's voice. "We have to keep feeding the green monster! We have to keep feeding the green monster, and it will come to life!"_

 _A few of the villagers stopped their conversations and looked to him. As they turned back around—having clearly heard this story many times before—Ezra smiled weakly._

 _"I remember that night," he said softly. "Scared everyone in the village half to death."_

 _"And then they saw what a good job of weeding that the children did," his friend chuckled. "But, a lot of that might have just been Emma. She was young, but she was very set on impressing her brother."_

 _"I suppose that's true," Ezra replied. "Jackson always did specially make time for her."_

 _"And alllllll of the little girls were jealous of her for it."_

 _They both laughed again, the man in the chair closing his eyes, as if savoring the memories. Jack let out his breath. Even though he couldn't really place why, it was such an overwhelming relief to see that man smile. In the midst of everything._

 _Despite everything._

 _"Or how about that time that my little Joshua felt so sick that he wouldn't eat?" the man in the cloak started again softly. "And no one in the entire village could make him do it."_

 _"Until Jackson challenged him to a lentil-eating contest."_

 _Both of the men laughed, the memory glowing in their eyes._

 _"I have never seen a little boy eat so much in my life," Ezra chuckled. He then smiled slyly, leaning in closer to his friend and dropping his voice a few tones. "Or get so SICK to his stomach afterwards."_

 _The man in the cloak threw back his head and let out a hearty, booming laugh. A few of the villagers in the room turned again, and then, realizing that the conversation was still a private one, resumed their own discussions. The man in the cloak looked back to Ezra._

 _"Ah, yes. That Jackson did have a bit of a naughty streak in him," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Always another trick up his sleeve."_

 _Ezra fell silent again, leaning onto the table and taking another drink. His friend leaned in close to his ear._

 _"You know… Joshua still has that toy donkey that your son carved for him," he said quietly. "That was the prize. And Jackson's little contest was probably what saved him from dying for want of food. My family will always be indebted to your boy for that."_

 _"We all will be." Ezra shook his head, shifting uncomfortably in the chair as reality fell upon him again. "It just—it isn't right. None of it is right."_

 _A wave of confusion swept over his friend's face._

 _"Ezra," he said softly, "What do you mea—"_

 _"—It isn't RIGHT," Ezra burst out suddenly, slamming down the mug and leaping onto his feet, "For a man, in MY position, to have lost his ONLY SON!"_

 _The room suddenly went silent as the villagers' conversation ceased, everyone turning and looking to Ezra in shock._

 _His eyes tearing up, he looked down, shaking his fist slightly. Jack watched in horror as blood rose to Ezra's face, his pale features going slightly pink. Stumbling a step back, Ezra slid his hands into his hair, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head._

 _"And now—another one!" he choked._

 _Everyone watched as Ezra collapsed back into the chair, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands._

 _A few moments passed in silence. Jack, frozen as he crouched on the table, felt his heart leap into his throat again. This man's pain was so palpable… it was like it was cutting HIM, personally. He just felt so close to him._

 _Why did he feel so close to him?_

 _Jack watched as the man in the cloak pulled out another chair at the table, sitting down with a sigh. The others in the room, sensing the need for privacy again, turned away. As the soft chatter filled the cottage, Ezra's friend leaned across the table, staring into his eyes._

 _"Ezra," he began again carefully, "I think you should know that—there's someone that can help you. A specialist. A man that has—experience—with this type of thing."_

 _Ezra paused. After a few seconds, he then slowly looked up. "What type of thing?"_

 _The man in the cloak shifted uncomfortably in his seat, staring at the table._

 _"You've been telling me of—strange happenings," his friend said intensely. "I—there is a dark presence here. There's no other explanation. Furniture moving on its own. The sheep getting spooked. Mysterious writing appearing out of nowhere—"_

 _"—An exorcist."_

 _The man in the cloak bit his lip. Ezra pulled in another breath._

 _"The man. He's an exorcist," Ezra shook. "Isn't he? You think we need to get an exorcist."_

 _His friend nodded. Jack crept another inch closer, straining to hear their hushed conversation._

 _"He is—expensive," the man said. "But consider the circumstances. Something must be done."_

 _"How expensive?"_

 _The man leaned into Ezra's ear, whispering something that Jack couldn't make out. He saw Ezra jolt, startling back as his face went pale._

 _"I can't pay that kind of price!" Ezra choked. "You know how hard things have been, since Jackson passed! It was bad enough, as it was. But now, I'm having to get hirelings to watch the sheep, and trying to keep the village from starving, and—"_

 _"—Ezra, you simply CANNOT keep avoiding reality!" the other man interrupted. "First, there was the infertility for all of those years. Then your eldest's death. Now the child. What will it be next?"_

 _Ezra put down his now-empty mug, wiping his wrist across his mouth. As he stared determinately at the table, his friend leaned close in to his face again._

 _"WHO… will it be… next?" the man in the cloak whispered._

 _He glanced towards the door to the bedroom, where Hazel was struggling to recover. Ezra's eyes widened, his face going pale._

 _After a few moments, he drew himself up._

 _"Fetch the man. Whatever the price," Ezra choked. "I will pay it."_

 _._

 _._

 _There was a knock at the door._

 _Ezra looked up, staring across the room through Jack's body. He then shakily got onto his feet, pushing out the chair and setting down the now thrice-drained mug. Most of the villagers had stayed, some to offer support, many hoping to catch a glimpse of this specialist—this exorcist—in action. Not much was to be found in the way of entertainment, in this village, and many of its inhabitants were eager to see something different from the usual daily grind and stormy evening. As Ezra walked over to the door and reached for the handle, a wave of dark excitement swept the room._

 _Jack stood up on the table, peering over the villager's heads with curiosity. Standing in the doorway, in a dark cloak, was a stout, aging man. His hairline was receding, above his wrinkled face, and a heavy cross hung on a rope about his neck._

 _As the man drew himself up, his icy glare seemed to pierce straight through the room. Despite his smaller stature, his deathly expression, twisted and dark from years of hatred, was cruel enough to make even the bravest cringe in terrified obedience to his words._

 _Many of the people had stayed in the cottage, and a few more had since come, to see a spectacle. And it appeared that the villagers were not going to be disappointed._

 _"I have received word that you have been having problems with a demon," the exorcist said coldly._

 _Ezra said nothing, but nodded, stepping gravely to the side and gesturing for the man to come into the tiny house. The wind swishing the cloak around him, he did so, snatching up the torch from outside the house and taking it inside with him._

 _Jack had stayed by Ezra for the previous few hours, crouched on the table, wishing with all his heart for nothing more than to comfort the strangely familiar man, to embrace him, to tell him that he was sorry. Sorry for everything. He was sorry that the man's son had died. He was sorry that Hazel's condition was worsening. He was sorry for—_

 _It wasn't his fault._

 _It WASN'T his fault._

 _Maybe if he repeated the phrase in his mind enough times, he would eventually begin to believe it._

 _Ezra had gotten up and gone in to see his wife a few times, but the midwife had shooed him away, after a few minutes on each visit. Hazel was trying to sleep. She needed to sleep. After giving birth too early…_

 _Jack's heart leapt into his throat at the memory._

 _It wasn't, wasn't, WASN'T his fault._

 _Was it?_

 _He jolted suddenly, realizing that the exorcist was at the table, Ezra next to him, the villagers gathered around._

 _"I am not accustomed to receiving this kind of summons in the middle of the night," the man snarled, "Yet I came, despite the weather and the hour. I am a charitable man. That, fortunately, works in your favor. But the price will be higher than usual."_

 _Ezra's face went pale. "Just—just do what you need to—"_

 _There was a loud clatter, and both men suddenly snapped their heads up._

 _As he'd tried to scoot himself a little further back on the table to watch, Jack had felt something tug on his cape. Whipping his head around, he realized what the noise, and tug, were from._

 _He'd accidentally pulled over Ezra's empty mug._

 _The villagers gasped, some turning and pointing. The man in the dark cloak leaned in closer to the table, glaring at the mug, his eyes narrowing ferociously. He then began to slowly reach for the cross around his neck._

 _"The demon," one of the women whispered. "It's—it's here!"_

 _Jack sucked in his breath, leaping off of the table and inching his way, as silently as he could, along the wall. He then looked back and realized that the exorcist, the heavy cross swinging in his hand, was creeping forward towards him._

 _Straight towards him._

 _._

 _._

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE ( _original, November 2015)_ : **

**1\. I just want to say that you guys have no IDEA how much your kind words and interest have meant to me. Basically, what I haven't told you en mass (I've been pretty open with the people I've been PM'ing) is that I have some—issues—and that writing is really helping me to deal with them. For as long as people seem to be reading it and enjoying it (What? People are reading this? Really? Oh, rejoicing!), I can then justify continuing. Again, you have no IDEA how much it means to me that you're, um, HERE. Thank you SO MUCH for being awesome; you have no CLUE how much this whole fanfic thing has been helping me! (BTW: _Happy three months of Ice Alliance!_ Well, actually, that was last Monday, but… yeah. I broke down and started writing this in the end of July, and then joined fanfiction-dot-net and started posting in the middle of August. These last three months of my life have been INSANE, and I'm SO GRATEFUL for all of you guys giving me this escape!)**

 **2\. To Guest Reviewer Theena: Oh, I'm glad that Jack's calling her "Snowflake" is growing on you! Just wait a few chapters until you find out why… ;)**

 **.**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE ( _added_ June 2017): _Three months._ Back before I was drafting like mad, and my quality was way lower, so that I could actually write that fast... ha... ha ha ha... (Re-drafting the first chapter through about here took 14 months, LOL) XD**


	32. Hellfire

**CONTENT WARNING: Once upon a time, I decided that I would do a Jelsa fic, because it would just be a relief to write something that was super fluffy and fun, _without_ plunging myself into deep, dark, philosophical commentary like I usually do. Apparently, I don't know how to do that. This one goes into the category of straight-up horror.**

 **THIS IS AS DARK AS IT GETS IN ICE ALLIANCE** **… (DON'T WORRY! THIS ONE ENDS ON A sort-of UP NOTE!)**

 **.**

 **.**

 **32: HELLFIRE**

 _Jack's heart started pounding. The man was coming towards him. It was—it was almost as if—!_

 _Taking a hesitant step forward, around a tiny dresser that was sitting against the wall, he pulled in his breath. Maybe this was the answer to his two weeks of pleading with the Man in the Moon. After two entire weeks of NO ONE being able to see him, maybe this man—maybe—?_

 _"C-Can you see anything?" one of the villagers shook._

 _Jack held his breath._

 _Watching intently, his heart started pounding as the man drew himself up, setting his jaw. This was it. The moment of truth. Perhaps a release from this horror, and explanation for—_

 _"I—" the exorcist sharply sucked in his breath, looking straight into Jack's eyes._ _ **"—YES!"**_

 _The villagers gasped. Jack's heart leapt._

 _His eyes welling up with tears, he felt wave of desperate relief sweep over him as he collapsed, leaning into his staff. Letting out a nervous bark of laughter, Jack pulled himself up, his eyes stinging as he stumbled forward to the terrifying man._

 _"I have no idea where I am," Jack stammered, "But—I'm so grateful you can see me! You have no CLUE what I've—"_

 _"It's…_ _ **hideous**_ _."_

 _Jack froze._

 _He stumbled back a step in shock, a wave of nausea sweeping through his body. After a few moments, he opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again, shaking his head with disbelief. The color drained from his face._

 _Jack tried again. "Wha—"_

 _"—BLACK FEATHERS—long—FANGS! FANGS, DRIPPING WITH BLOOD!" the exorcist shrieked, spinning around, and the people collectively gasped, whimpering and grasping each other._

 _Jack hastily looked down at his hands. What was he talking about?_

 _"BACK! Get thee BACK, thou DEMON!"_

 _Jack looked up again and yelped, startling backwards and crashing into the dresser. The torch came down, barely missing his shoulder, and the dresser collapsed beneath him, falling over onto its side. As the drawers toppled out one by one onto the ground, Jack lost his footing again, several of the women screaming as the exorcist swung the torch for a second time._

 _Scrambling to get out of its path, Jack gasped, lunging to the side. As he frantically crawled towards a corner on his hands and knees to escape from the flame, still gripping the staff, the terrifying man leapt forward again, screaming and sweeping the torch lower to the ground. Scrambling across the dirt floor, Jack could feel the heat of the exorcist's torch swinging closer and closer to him as he—_

 _Suddenly, Jack accidentally put his hand on top of his dragging cape._

 _Crying out in shock, he fell forward onto the ground, knocking over a broomstick as more screams and gasps from the villagers, filled his ears, nearly engulfing the cries of the exorcist. Righting himself, Jack was finally able to stumble shakily onto his feet, pushing himself up with the staff. As he straightened up to turn around, he suddenly felt a strange, hot pain on his back._

 _Jack gasped._

 _He was on fire._

 _He shrieked, ripping off the cape and throwing it away from his body, then desperately tearing off the burning vest. The exorcist startled backwards in shock as the ball of flame, seemingly attached to nothing, flew through the air towards him, the villagers screaming and backing away from the corner._

 _Gathering his senses, the terrifying man then drew himself up, shoving the torch to one of the men standing behind him and ripping off the cross that was swinging on a chain from around his neck. Glowering, he crept menacingly towards the corner where Jack was standing, thrusting the cross in front of him and beginning to yell a long, rambling something in Latin._

 _Falling back towards the floor again, Jack pressed himself as hard as he could into the corner as the man towered over him, cowering as the heavy cross swung threateningly in his face. His eyes beginning to brim with tears of desperation, he shakily pulled in a ragged breath._

 _"WHO ARE YOU?" Jack screamed, "WHERE AM I? WHERE IS THIS?"_

 _The man, his face red from yelling and contorted into a horrible scowl, got louder, breaking from the Latin and shoving the cross forward again._

 _"DEMON!" the exorcist shrieked, "GET THEE HENCE! DEEEMON!"_

 _Jack's mind was numb with horror, his legs shaking so hard that they were almost collapsing beneath him as he cowered into the corner, away from the screaming, the fire, from the terrifying man. He gasped for breath, fighting back the stinging in his eyes as he studied the man's expression._

 _The exorcist had said that he could see him. But he'd said—he'd said—!_

 _Feeling the stinging pain of burns flowering across his back, Jack shakily drew himself up. Sucking in his breath, he then gripped the staff, stepping forward as the shrieking man lurched at him, the swinging cross plunging straight into his heart._

 _Jack watched in terror as the shadow of the exorcist's arm pulled out of his chest, his mind freezing into the blank haze of shock. Shaking his head with disbelief, his vision began to go blurry as the nausea swept over him._

 _"You—you said you could see me!" Jack choked. "You said—!"_

 _The cross, in the exorcist's hand, plunged into his chest again, then coming out for a second time as the screaming, the crying, and all the sounds in the room faded together into one, leaving Jack hearing nothing but the violent booming of his own heart pounding in his ears._

 _Fighting back the tears, he shakily pulled in his breath. Then, drawing himself up, Jack walked slowly forward through the bodies of the terrified villages towards the door, leaving the exorcist screaming at the empty corner behind him._

 _._

 _._

 _Frantically rubbing the tears off of his face with his arm, Jack Frost stumbled blindly through the forest, the cold winter air rushing over his bare torso as he wandered deeper and deeper into the trees._

 _His tattered cape and vest were back in the little cottage with the exorcist, completely destroyed, and when he'd walked out through the crowd, he had initially thought that, somehow, his woolen shirt had been spared. Thankfully, the worn-out old wool had apparently been just thick enough to help protect his back from more of the burns. However, it hadn't been thick enough to stay in one piece._

 _The back had been covered with singe marks, the fabric falling apart in gaping holes and rips. And the wool had been agitating his burns, anyway. After realizing that there was nothing he could do to fix it, Jack had, in despair, discarded the shirt back somewhere behind him in the forest, leaving it on the ground in the moonlight. Maybe some animal or something could use it. Well… if they could see it, that was._

 _In the mean time, he wasn't going to steal a shirt from anyone in the village. They were clearly suffering enough already. There was a saying, he knew, that essentially described the ultimate state of ruin as having nothing more than the shirt on your back. And now, he didn't even have one of those. He didn't know who or where he was, but Jack was now certain that he'd now lost everything._

 _So this was Hell._

 _The burns on his back were worsening, the enflamed skin and seeming to burn deeper and deeper as he walked. Was he really a demon? Was that—was that Hellfire, the just burned him? But the man wielding it—that would make HIM—wait. No. That didn't make sense…_

 _Nothing made sense._

 _Jack, feeling a new wave of nausea sweeping over him, stumbled to the side, throwing out his arm to catch himself before he fell onto a tree. Shakily turning around as his limbs went limp, he then helplessly lowered himself down against it, the harsh bark piercing into the burns on his back._

 _He didn't even care._

 _Weakly pulling his knees into his chest as he sat down in the wet leaves around the snowbank, more sharp sticks and twigs tearing at his skin, he collapsed against the tree, burying his face in his legs. Nothing made sense. No one could see him. And then they'd cast him out. How could they cast him out, if they couldn't see him? And now, here he was, in the middle of the forest, in the middle of the night, completely alone in the darkness._

 _It was dark. And it was cold._

 _And he was scared._

 _Hugging his knees to his chest, Jack rocked back, and then forward, and then back again, finally leaning helplessly back against the tree trunk and bursting into tears._

 _._

 _._

 _Hours passed._

 _There was nothing to be done. Sometimes, the tears would slow, but then Jack would feel a twig or a branch catch on one of his burns, and he would remember. Then he would collapse again. He was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. Hungry, but he couldn't eat. The pit in his stomach was not fading, but growing stronger, becoming more painful each and every time that reality hit him freshly again._

 _Demon._

 _He was a demon._

 _Jack swallowed hard, pulling in his breath and hugging his knees tighter to his chest again. He bowed his head forward. Was it really true? Shaking his head as the tears streamed down his face, Jack suddenly saw something in his peripheral vision._

Shinggg!

 _Looking up through the glassy film over his eyes, he jolted, gasping and scrambling backwards into the tree._

Shing! Shing shinggg! SHINGGG!

 _Glittering spirals and ribbons of shining dust were suddenly shooting through the trees, twisting and darting around him in the forest. The darkness was fleeing in all directions as the gold spun and raced through the air, dancing and leaping, rejoicing, rushing on the wind, creating its own. Sucking in his breath and looking up, Jack watched in awe as the gold began to condense into a fluid cloud before the realization hit._

 _It was closing in on him._

 _Jack shrieked and cowered into the tree, his eyes wide, shaking uncontrollably and gripping his knees to his chest. From behind, he felt something touch him, and he jolted, whipping his head around in terror and pulling in his breath to scream._

 _A tiny, pale hand was resting on his shoulder._

 _._

 _._

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **1\. Okay, first off, I just want to say: YASSSSSS, WE'RE THROUGH WITH THE DARKEST (Oh, boy. I think.) PART OF ICE ALLIANCE! This chapter, and the last, were very difficult to write, and I'm sure they were difficult to read. However, with that in mind, this chapter was necessary because it sets up the NEXT one coming up, which I think is one of my favorite chapters so far. The darkness is temporarily done—PHEW!**

 **2\. I'm still fairly new to the world of fanfic, and there have been some guest reviewers that have been using, uh, what I _believe_ are fanfic slang terms and abbreviations? Basically: if you're using fanfic slang, I probably will have no idea what you're talking about. Please, please don't, because I value your opinions, and I want to know what you mean! (Think of yourself as explaining this to a donkey. A very, very stupid donkey.)**

 **3\. For the number of people that have requested my, um, making Jack and Elsa "go faster," if you get my drift… okay, first off, I'm glad you've told me that, because it means that you're emotionally involved (my goal! Ha ha!), but _second_ , I just want to make one thing very clear. As I stated earlier, I'm very, VERY Christian, and I believe in abstinence before marriage, and then complete fidelity after marriage. Because I am writing this in accordance with my religious beliefs, I am just going to state here: There is no pre-marital sex in Ice Alliance. I repeat, THERE IS NO PRE-MARITAL SEX IN ICE ALLIANCE. **

**4\. Actually, let's re-phrase that, just so I'm not misunderstood…**

 **5\. There is no PRE-MARITAL sex in Ice Alliance.**

 **6\. (*cackles maniacally*)**

 **7\. Anyhoo, this was a long, rambling note. I LOVE YOU ALL, thanks for being here, and see ya in the next chapter, which is one of my personal favorites ("Some Are Cursed")!**


	33. Some Are Cursed

**33: SOME ARE CURSED**

 _Jack Frost scrambled backwards in the snowbank, gasping for breath. Standing before him—floating in the air—was a tiny, plump little man. Everything about him, gleaming in the moonlight, was gold; his hair clumped itself together in large, gold spikes, his eyes were soft and golden in their color, and on his stout, short little body was a clinging gold robe, stretching all the way down onto his tiny feet._

 _"You—you can see me?" Jack stammered._

 _The little man smiled, patting Jack's shoulder again and taking a step back. A wave of relief swept over Jack, and he scrambled onto his feet._

 _"Oh my word!" he gasped, "You have_ no _idea how grateful I am to see you, then! I mean, unless—unless I'm seeing things. Am I seeing things? I mean, all this stuff in the air—?"_

 _The little man shook his head, smiling._

 _No. Jack wasn't seeing things._

 _"Oh, good. But, if I'm talking to you—hey, what's your name? If you're not a hallucination?"_

 _The little man didn't answer, but instead pointed above his head. Jack looked up, and the suddenly jolted, seeing dozens of little pictures—out of the strange golden shimmering—forming in the air in front of him._

 _"What the—?" Jack's eyes widened in confusion. "Why can't—what's going on? Why can't you just talk to me?"_

 _The pictures stopped, an image of a tree disintegrating into the air. In a moment, the golden man pointed to his throat, biting his lip._

 _"You can't speak," Jack sighed._

 _The little man shook his head and smiled sheepishly, shrugging. He didn't seem the least bit offended. Or concerned._

 _"Who ARE_ _you?"_

 _The man jumped slightly into the air, golden images rapidly forming and disintegrating again above his yellow, spiky hair. Bears, dogs, deer, leaping fish, animals Jack had never seen, and—_

 _"—I—I'm sorry," Jack interrupted. "I—I don't understand."_

 _The little man raised his eyebrows. Then, floating over to Jack, he gestured for him to hold out his hand. Jack hesitantly did so, and watched in wonder as the little man swirled his tiny, pale hand over his own outstretched one. A shimmering, golden substance fell into his palm, and Jack pulled it back, inspecting it._

 _Feeling a small clump of it in his fingertips, his eyes widened._

 _"Is this—sand?"_

 _The little man leapt up into the air, silently clapping and grinning enthusiastically. Jack gasped._

 _"You're the Sandman," he breathed._

 _A tiny, golden bowler hat spun into existence above the man's head, and the man reached up and tipped it, grinning from ear to ear._

 _"But I haven't—" Jack's voice trailed off. "I haven't believed in the Sandman since I was a kid! You—you're really—?"_

 _He shrugged, smiling again. Then, the little man—the Sandman—gestured to Jack, asking the silent question with his face._

 _"Oh! I'm—um," Jack stammered, "I'm Jack Frost."_

Snowflake. Question mark?

 _Jack nodded, picking up the staff. Moving it between them, he tapped it on the ground, and intricate swirls of ice spun out from where it had touched, covering the grass in a thin layer of frost._

 _The Sandman's eyes widened slightly. Then, he looked back into Jack's gaze, smiling approvingly. He was clearly impressed._

 _After a few moments, he gave his head a slight little shake, a few grains of sand flying from his hair and falling towards the ground. Jack watched as the Sandman then held up a golden bag that he hadn't previously noticed. Placing the bag in front of himself, the Sandman then opened it up as it hovered in the air, pulling out something dark._

 _Holding it up in his tiny hands, the little man shook it out. Watching in curiosity, Jack saw that it was a dark blue shirt. Raising his eyebrows, the Sandman then grinned, holding it out to him as more images formed in the air._

Shirt. Boy without shirt. Boy with shirt!

 _Jack took the piece of clothing, getting onto his feet. He then shook his head, sadly looking up to the little man floating in the air in front of him._

 _"No. This isn't mine," Jack sighed, "I lost my shirt back at the—"_

 _The little man raised his eyebrows, and glanced down to the piece of clothing in Jack's hands again, a sly little smirk twitching out of the side of his mouth. Turning it over, Jack then looked down and jolted._

 _His eyes bulged. It really WAS his shirt—the seams, the cut, and the softness of the worn woolen fabric were all recognizable. But somehow, the whole thing had been altered and added upon, like he'd never seen before. The tattered wristbands had been replaced by thick cuffs, and the neck, instead of being a loose, ragged seam, was now attached to a small hood, with a drawstring inserted into a casing around its edge to pull it together. The bottom hem was reinforced as well, with a thick ribbed band. Strangest of all, sewn onto the stomach of the shirt was a long, two-sided pocket, that seemed to serve no more purpose than to provide a place to put one's hands._

 _And of course, there was the mystery of how his faded woolen shirt had lost all of its burn marks and holes from the exorcist's torch. In fact, not a single mark remained—and the fabric had somehow been transformed from a warm cream color to a deep, icy blue. Mended and fresh, it was now just as if his shirt, too, has been pulled out of a frozen lake._

 _He looked back to the little man, his mouth falling slightly open in shock._

 _"How…?" Jack choked. "Where did—what the—what?"_

 _A single image formed above the Sandman's head._

Crescent moon.

 _Jack's eyes widened. Stumbling back a step, he gulped, then opening his mouth to speak again._

 _"The Man in the Moon?" Jack breathed. "He—you're saying he fixed my shirt?"_

 _The Sandman nodded solemnly. He gestured to the sky, raising his eyebrows slightly. Jack turned and looked._

 _"Oh. Um," he stammered, gazing up at the moon. "Thanks."_

 _The Moon didn't respond. Jack bit his lip, shrugging and turning back to the Sandman—who now looked satisfied; Jack had thanked the Man in the Moon—as he studied the strange garment._

 _"What_ is _this thing?" Jack breathed. "I mean, I know it's my old shirt, but it's just like—different."_

 _The Sandman put his finger to his lips, looking up thoughtfully. After a few moments, Jack saw a golden image begin to form above his head, and jumped again._

Book. Book opening. Question Mark?

 _The man pointed to him, his eyebrows raised in the question._

 _"I—um, yeah. I can read."_

 _Jack watched in amazement as new pictures spun into existence._

Letter H, letter O, letter O, letter D, letter I, letter E.

 _"What's a hoo dye?"_

 _The little man shook his head vigorously, starting again._

Letter H, letter O, letter O, letter D. _He paused._ Letter I. Letter E.

 _"Oh—um—it's called a hood-ee?"_

 _The Sandman nodded fervently, beaming. As Jack watched in wonder, the little man then pointed at the ground, more images forming above his head._

Number One. Number Five. Number Four. Number Two.

 _And then, he pointed to the piece of clothing._

Number Two. Number Zero. Number One. Number Two.

 _A look of confusion swept across Jack's face._

 _"Um… what?" he choked. "I'm sorry. I still—I don't understand what you're saying."_

 _The Sandman rolled his eyes, grinning sheepishly and shaking his head. He shrugged, flinging his hand forward in a daw, forget-about-it sort of gesture. Jack smiled weakly in spite of himself._

 _"Well—whatever it is," Jack chuckled, "I'm guessing it's comfortable. And if no one can see me, it doesn't really matter if I look stupid. Right?"_

 _The Sandman shrugged again, smiling good-naturedly, and Jack pulled the blue shirt—hoodie—whatever it was—over his head. As he yanked it down over his stomach, the fabric brushing against his skin, delicate fractals of frost webbed out across its surface, starting from his neck and creeping itself down onto his arms. The pain on his back cooled, as if the burns were beginning to heal from simply touching the icy fabric._

 _Wow. It really_ was _comfortable._

 _The Sandman took a step back, folding his stout little arms over his chest. Jack realized that more pictures were appearing above his head._

Eye. Teardrop. Tears from eye. Question mark?

 _He pointed to Jack, his eyes soft with concern._

 _"Why was I—? Wait. No," Jack blurted, his face flushing slightly. "I—I wasn't crying."_

 _The Sandman's golden eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. Then, visibly restraining from rolling his eyes, he smirked slightly and gestured again, another picture forming._

Question. Maaaaaark?

 _Jack bit his lip, staring determinately at the ground. Gripping the staff, he pulled in his breath again, avoiding the little man's gaze._

 _"I'm a demon," he insisted. "Demons can't cry."_

 _The Sandman jolted, his eyes bulging at the statement. He shook his head, not understanding._

 _"Oh, come on. This is Hell, isn't it?" Jack choked. "I'm a demon, and I'm in Hell. I just don—wait, no?"_

 _The little man was shaking his head vigorously, his face filled with horror. Jack gulped._

 _"If this isn't Hell," he said carefully, "Then—then where am I?"_

 _The images began to form again._

Letter B. Letter U. Letter R. Letter G. Letter E. Letter S. Letter S.

 _"Burgess?"_

 _The Sandman leapt up, nodding enthusiastically and beaming. Jack looked around himself, shifting his grip on the staff._

 _"So, this place is called Burgess, huh?" Jack mused. "Not… um, not… Hell."_

 _The Sandman raised his eyebrows and nodded. Correct._

 _Jack, his mind racing, looked down, fingering the edge of the strange pocket on his mended shirt. Finally, he pulled in a deep breath, looking back to the Sandman._

 _"So… am I stuck here, or is there more?" he asked quietly, "Can I go anywhere else?"_

 _He watched in wonder as a little smirk spread over the Sandman's face. Then, before Jack could respond, the man leapt forward and grabbed his wrist. Abruptly sucking in his breath, Jack Frost was suddenly shooting upwards on a golden cloud into the air._

 _._

 _._

Lying next to Elsa, Jack absent-mindedly kicked the edge of the bedskirt with his toe, staring up at the sprawling map above them. He crossed his arms over his chest, and then let out a long sigh.

"My father was actually the leader of the village, but with my death—and then losing the baby—and then, of course, the _demon,"_ he scoffed, "Well—let's just say his leadership position didn't last very long. Everyone thought the family was cursed."

Elsa said nothing, her eyes wide with horror. Jack pulled in a deep breath, letting his arms fall down to his sides.

"And—in a way—I guess I was." He swept his hand through the air, and a tiny cluster of snowflakes began to swirl and dance above his palm. He looked to Elsa, then glancing back to the snowflakes. "Some are born with the powers. Some are cursed. I'm in the second category. Look at everything that happened to my family immediately after."

Jack sighed again, twisting his finger around the snowflakes in the air. They burst apart, the disintegrated ice particles softly falling onto his chest in a shimmering mist.

After a few moments, Elsa turned over and looked at him, propping herself up on her elbow. She pulled in a long breath, her eyebrows lifting slightly.

"Jack Frost," Elsa breathed, "You're… _really_ … incredible. You know that?"

He froze, his eyes wide. Then, after a moment, he let out a long sigh. "Elsa, there's nothing particularly incredible about me," he said softly. "I wasn't even born with my powers. Remember? The Man in the Moon did all of that."

"I wasn't talking about your _powers_ , Jack," Elsa whispered. "I was talking about you as a _person_."

His breath caught. Jack opened his mouth to say something, to try to respond, to tell her she was wrong, but no sound came out.

 _Incredible?_

Elsa turned over on the floor. He could practically feel her intense, sad gaze on his face as he continued to stare determinately at the underside of the bedframe.

"You survived _three hundred years of torture_ ," she said softly, "And at the end—after all of that, after _endless torment_ , all without even having an understanding of why you became invisible—you didn't want revenge, or to take out your pain on anyone else, or to even have an _acknowledgement_ of what you'd done for people. After all of that, all you wanted was to _help people have fun."_

Jack felt his heart leap into his throat, once again nervously glancing to the young woman next to him on the floor. Her expression was so— _sincere_. Did she—did she really _mean_ what—?

Suddenly, Jack knew that he was blushing. After a few moments, unable to fight it, he let out a nervous laugh, shifting uncomfortably on the floor again.

"Well, I—I guess it just—um," he stammered, "I like—I like making people happy. I guess. And it helped take my mind off of—well. The invisibility. And stuff. You know, seeing people having fun?"

To this, Elsa smiled weakly. His heart leapt again.

 _OooOOOoooh,_ that smile.

"Jack, this is what I mean. You _are_ incredible," she said softly, her face going serious again. "I mean—come on—your family and everything? That must have been _heartbreaking_."

"I actually—actually, I couldn't remember any of it," he responded, "I mean, before I was raised up by Manny. I had complete and total amnesia."

A look of confusion swept across her face.

"So… how are you remembering it now?" Elsa asked. "Like—your father. How did you figure it out?"

"Remember it? That would be Baby Tooth's doing. Long story," Jack said, shifting again and taking in a long breath. "In retrospect, though, I—honestly—when I _did_ remember—you know, when I realized that those poor people in the cottage had been my parents—I've never been so grateful for the amnesia. For all those years of being angry at Manny, I'd never realized that wiping my memory was an act of mercy."

He folded his arms over his chest as the pain sank back in. Elsa was quiet, propped up on her elbows and gazing into his face as he stared at the underside of the bedframe again.

Jack pulled in a long, shaky breath.

"If I'd remembered who they were at the time—I—I don't even want to _think_ about that," he choked softly. "I mean—it would have hurt so much _more_. The first decade was the hardest. Just, I—I didn't—!"

He gasped for another breath, cutting himself off. Then biting his lip, Jack shook his head in embarrassment, folding his arms tighter and avoiding Elsa's sad gaze. Opening his mouth to speak, he tried again.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, "It's just—I guess it was—"

In his peripheral vision, Jack saw Elsa turn over towards him, reaching for the candle. Flicking her fingers above it, there was a tiny flash of ice, and it snuffed out.

Suddenly thrown into almost complete darkness, Jack felt her scooting towards him on the floor.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I just don't want anything to catch on fire."

"Elsa—wha-what are you doing?"

"I made you a promise earlier today," she said softly. "And I—um, I think you need someone to touch you right now."

Jack's breath caught as he watched Elsa reach her arm across his chest, her body pushed against his own on the floor. A shudder ran through him as he felt the warmth of her body, of _another person's_ _body_ , next to his own in the darkness, Elsa awkwardly hugging his side in the cramped space underneath her childhood bed.

Nothing, in his entire life, had ever felt so beautifully reassuring to Jack as Elsa's embrace did in this moment.

His eyes started stinging.

 _NO!_ Jack thought desperately, _Not in front of her!_ Fighting it, his heart pounding, his mind raced furiously as he tried to think of something to say.

Anything to say.

He looked down again, seeing Elsa's head resting on his chest. Jack then hesitantly put his arm around her, pulling her closer, the rush of relief sweeping through him again as he struggled for words.

"Thanks," he choked. "Elsa—I—"

"—Jack Frost, I will _never_ stop believing in you."


	34. Chairs

**AUTHOR'S NOTE ( _added,_ June 2017, _after_ drafting hiatus): Yeah, these were originally two separate chapters. Sorry for ALL the notes!**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE( _original, first part of what is now one chapter)_: Okay, putting these at the bottom of the chapters has had an interesting effect: People are reviewing my Author's Notes, not the writing itself. So, back at the top they go! Although, honestly, I don't really get all THAT many reviews per chapter, so I should be grateful for whatever I can get. (*opens reviews for "Crazy or Evil," turns on soundtrack from Toy Story 2*) _When sooooomebody loved me… eeeeverything was beautiful…_ (Also: HALLO, THEENA! You seemed to like the last shout-out so much that… HAVE ANUZER ONE! HALLOOO! YOU ARE NICE TO ME AND I LOVE YOU!)**

 **(Finally, finally, FINALLY we get to start going more into Elsa's mind! This has been pretty Jack-centric so far. As the writer, I've got my long-winded reasons for doing this, if anyone wants to PM me about it, but… FINALLY. (I ADORE Elsa. So stoked!) Also: Has anybody else noticed, except for a VERY brief conversation with a guard and the flashback, _that Elsa and Jack haven't actually interacted with any other characters since CHAPTER 22?!_ My goodness. I am REALLY long-winded. Also, I am _desperately_ bored, sooooo… time to bring in some other voices again. ;)**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE ( _original, second part of what is now one chapter)_: **

**1\. WOW! What a response! My goodness, I drop a single off-handed comment about how I wished more people would review, and you DELIVERED! You cannot know how much that means to me. Even though you "can't treat the reviews like currency," as a wise and wonderful fanfic'ing friend once told me, _any writer on here_ will tell you the same: _the reviews REALLY encourage you to keep writing._ My goodneth, I luff you guyth.**

 **2\. To the guest reviewer that signed their review as "Your Biggest Fan": I just about started crying when I read that. As I've said before, part of the reason I'm _writing_ this is because _I'm_ going through a hard time myself. To know that it really means something to someone else is incredible, and I can't thank you enough for telling me. **

**3\. Some of you may have noticed that the last chapter was originally called "Snow Bunnies" instead of "Winter Bunnies." So, APPARENTLY, there's an actual term "snow bunny," and it's… CURSING? (?!) Just to reassure everybody: If I am swearing in Ice Alliance, I PROMISE, it is NOT intentional! I am so sorry if anyone was offended!**

 **4\. I'm seriously considering putting up a list of references in Ice Alliance. Mostly, I want to know if they've been going unnoticed… I'm making CONSTANT references to BOTH movies (example: Anna's line "What gives? Slowpokes?" in the last chapter was one of North's lines in ROTG). I'm figuring I could stick it on my profile page, for those of you who have seen it… (basically: NONE OF YOU! HA HA!). What do you think? Let me know in the reviews!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: INNNNNNNUENDOOOOOOOOO, LIKE USUAAAAAAAAAAAL; DON'T MIND MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...**

.

 **.**

 **34: CHAIRS**

. . .

"They're _got_ to be around here somewhere," Anna's voice declared. "I'm not giving up on her yet. The stinker."

The door creaked open, and from underneath the edge of the bedskirt, Anna's feet were suddenly visible across the room on the carpet. Elsa jolted, her eyes wide. She sat up slightly, looking to Jack, who was also frozen in his place. His expression conveyed the same pleading message as her own.

 _Don't. Breathe._

"I'm _telling_ you, they're _not in the castle_ ," Kristoff's voice retorted. "We shouldn't be wasting time looking for them. We need to think up another good story to cover for Elsa. And, I'm currently out of ideas."

"I guess it's just…" Anna's feet swiveled around in the doorway. Kristoff must have been standing in the hall. "I feel like Elsa would have _told_ me if they were planning on flying the coop. _Again_."

"Literally, in his case." From somewhere outside, Kristoff let out a hearty laugh. "And if they have, she might not have told you, anyway. Most people who disappear into the mountains want to be _alone._ "

" _Nobody_ wants to be alone!"

There was a silence.

" _Oooooooooh_ ," Anna's voice giggled. "You mean— _alone._ "

"Uh-huh."

Elsa and Jack looked to each other again, both blushing furiously. Jack was visibly restraining from laughing, seeing Elsa's terrified expression.

"Well," Kristoff's voice started again, "If we don't find them in five minutes, I'm giving up. In the meantime, I'm going to go check the other bedrooms, and then go to the main conference room again."

"Alright, my love."

And Kristoff's boots were clomping away down the hall. Elsa bit her lip as Anna's feet turned in their direction, a light being twisted on.

"Elsa? Elsa, are you in here?"

She was walking towards them. After a few moments, Anna's shoes were positioned right outside the bed. Elsa held her breath, and suddenly realized with horror that Anna was bending over, grunting slightly with her pregnant stomach.

"Is this…?"

A long object suddenly moved on the carpet, the shadow lifting. Elsa's heart leapt into her throat as she frantically looked around on the floor under the bed, realizing what had been missing.

Jack had left his staff on the floor by her nightstand.

Her eyes wide with horror, heart pounding, and she threw a betrayed glare at him, pushing herself up a bit. He grimaced, swallowing hard.

All of a sudden, the end of the shepherd's crook hooked around the bottom of the bedskirt. Jack's eyes widened, and just before the cloth was yanked up, he shoved Elsa off of him.

Anna's face appeared by the carpet at the side of the bed.

Elsa's face drained of color as she watched her sister's eyes bulge. Anna's mouth fell slightly open, and a long, painful silence fell as the three, frozen, stared at each other in shock.

Finally, Jack pressed his hands together, touching his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opening them again, and stared determinately up at the bedframe for a moment. Biting his lip, he glanced to Elsa, and then back to the bedframe, before hesitantly looking back up into Anna's face.

He gulped.

"Hi," Jack choked.

Anna raised her eyebrows. Then, after a few moments, her face broke into a grin.

"I'm sorry," she drawled, "Am I—interrupting something?"

"—Kind of—"

 _"—NO—!"_

Elsa and Jack looked to each other in shock at their simultaneous statements. Blushing furiously, Elsa pulled in a deep breath, looking back to her sister.

"Um— _no,"_ she repeated, throwing a dark glare at Jack. "Anna—I know this looks bad—"

"—No," Anna giggled, "What would look _bad_ would be for the queen to miss _two_ meals in one day. I covered for you at lunch, but if you aren't at dinner in ten minutes, the head cook said she's calling the royal doctors."

Elsa's eyes widened. Lunch. It must have been hours ago. It hadn't even crossed her mind.

Anna laughed again, dropping the bedskirt back into place and straightening up, grunting slightly.

"As much as I hate to break the moment," she giggled, stepping away from the bed, "You two have been: _busted_. Time to come out from under there for dinner. Chop chop!"

Alone again in the darkness, Jack and Elsa looked to each other in embarrassment. Jack swallowed hard, and then nodded, rolling out from underneath the bed. Elsa, feeling the heat in her face, sheepishly followed him, rolling out onto the carpet at her sister's feet.

Coming out and blinking slightly in the lamplight, Elsa took Jack's outstretched hand. He gently pulled her up, and she brushed herself off before turning back around to Anna.

"I—I'm sorry about missing lunch," Elsa stammered, "And—making you come find us. I didn't realize that the—"

"—It's okay," Anna laughed, a slight smirk on the edge of her lips again. "Just _tell_ somebody when you're going to magically disappear into thin air next time, okay?"

Elsa bit her lip, looking down and twisting her spike heel in the carpet. Anna held out the staff to Jack, and he took it, muttering a sheepish thank you before Anna turned and paced from the room.

The door swung almost completely shut after her, leaving the two standing in the center of Elsa's childhood bedroom. With the faint lamplight falling across the carpet and casting their long shadows onto the wall behind it, it was only then that Elsa saw exactly how much time had passed. It was completely dark outside of her window, now.

Looking back, she realized that Jack was staring at her.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he reached forward, gingerly grasping her hand. Letting out a nervous laugh, Jack then shifted on his feet, looking into her eyes. In the lamplight, she saw that his own were still slightly swollen. When she had hugged him, she'd noticed, but… well, she'd pretended not to. It would probably have embarrassed him further.

Elsa had never seen _anyone_ react to a hug like that before.

"So… um," Jack stammered, letting out another nervous laugh, "That was… really awkward."

"Yeah."

He looked down again, blushing slightly and giving her hand a squeeze. He wasn't letting go.

Elsa shakily drew herself up.

"Um… Jack?" she choked.

"Yeah?"

She looked nervously down to her hand, and then back into his eyes.

"I—um, I kinda need my hand bac—"

"— _Oh!"_

He jolted, releasing it and jumping a few inches into the air. Elsa's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. Usually, _she_ was the shy one. Where was sudden nervousness coming from?

Could it…?

Elsa bit down hard on her lip, willing the thought from her mind, and flicked her hands behind her.

 _Don't flatter yourself, Elsa._

Shimmering ice shot out of the back of her dress, and Jack took a step away, watching longingly as an elegant new capelet rolled down her back and out onto the floor at his feet. She turned around to face him, and just as she was about to open her mouth to say something, the door swung open again.

" _What gives?_ Slowpokes?" Anna teased, sticking her head back into the room. "Now, come _on._ You can be lovey-dovey again _after_ dinner."

Elsa jolted. "Anna, we were _not_ being—"

But her sister was already gone. Jack glanced to the door, and Elsa nodded, her mind still racing, trying to analyze what had just happened. There was _surely_ a logical explanation for Jack's nervousness, and it _surely_ had nothing to do with _her._

As he lunged forward to grab the door, pulling it open, she drew herself up, thanking him and stepping out into the hallway. Maybe he was acting like this because she'd made him bring up his past. _Goodness,_ that was dark… and telling anyone about that would probably make a person get shy. Uncomfortable, at least. Maybe she really _was_ a horrible friend. Maybe she shouldn't have pressured him into telling her about—

As Elsa turned around to pick up her capelet and yank in through the door, she jolted again.

It wasn't there.

 _Wait. I could have SWORN that I just—!_ Elsa thought frantically, her face going pale. Whirling around, she jerked her head up, and—

Jack Frost had suddenly materialized on the other side of her in the hallway, holding the capelet in his hands. Their eyes met, and he froze, blushing furiously.

 _What the…?_ Elsa's eyes widened in confusion.

Jack gulped, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "Sorry," he stammered, "The _fabric_ —thing—I—I just don't get it—it's like, it's hard— _and_ soft—at the same time—um—" He bit his lip. " _Here_."

Jack awkwardly shoved the capelet into her arms, pushing past her and bursting into the room to retrieve his staff.

Elsa stumbled back a step in shock, looking down at the icy fabric. Tossing it back onto the floor, she pulled in a long, shaky breath, closing her eyes and struggling to keep her breathing even. Jack was scared out of his wits. He was acting—um, yes, _scared_. She had just been trying to be nice. But now, it was like he was traumatized.

Maybe she shouldn't have hugged him? Maybe hugs scared him. Maybe he didn't _like_ hugs. Maybe he just didn't like _her,_ and then she'd gone and _touched_ him (stupid girl!), because she'd assumed that physical touch would be good, but maybe she shouldn't have assumed, no, that was wrong to do, and she should never assume anything like that ever again, because she… she… _!_

Elsa fidgeted with her fingers, nervously looking to the door.

She was _really_ bad at this.

She wasn't used to having friends. Actually, she'd—well, actually, she'd never really _done_ the whole friendship thing before. She was usually The Queen, and being The Queen, all this confounded social nonsense was very simple. _I am the Queen. You are the subject._ It was scripted. _Comfortable_. Nothing like this. She had just hugged him. It wasn't a big deal. Or, at least, it wasn't _supposed_ to be a big deal. Oooooooooh, this was hard. And a hug that lasted for forty-five minutes was still just a hug… right?

 _Right?_

Maybe he was offended? Maybe he was angry. Maybe he hated her now. Well! Wonderful! _Good job, Elsa! You're given the once-in-a-lifetime chance to be friends with Jack Frost, and he's handsome and charming and sweet and incredible and brilliant, and what do you do? You immediately proceed to ruin everything!_ _You and you stupid lack of social skills! You and your stupid—ooooooh, WHY?_

She'd messed up _already._ Maybe she _should_ have stuck to the snowmen. How on earth did Anna _do_ this?

Elsa bit her lip, staring at the ground as Jack sheepishly came back out of the room with his staff and looked up into her face again.

Their eyes met.

After a split-second, Jack looked down. He blushed slightly, letting out a nervous laugh and shifting his feet on the floor before turning slightly away.

Oh, no.

She really _had_ ruined everything. Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

 _I am the worst friend ever._

Quickly sucking in her breath, Elsa turned and paced down the hallway after her sister. Before she could go for two steps, though, she saw a quick flash of ice in her peripheral vision.

After she hadn't done it, Jack had quietly frozen the lock behind them.

Feeling a sharp pang of embarrassment hit her in the chest, Elsa bit down hard on her lip again, straightening herself up and pacing faster down the hallway after Anna. In a few moments, Jack caught up, walking close beside her and matching her stride.

Very. Close. Beside her.

 _Why is he walking so close to me?_

Anna was already most of the way down the hallway, opening bedroom doors and sticking her head inside them, one by one. At the very last—

"Hey! _Kristoff!"_ Anna laughed, " _I found them!_ You can stop looking!"

In a few moments, Elsa saw her brother-in-law step out of the bedroom. Looking to them, Kristoff grinned. He then glanced back to Anna.

"And to _where_ , exactly, did the blizzard bunnies get off _this_ time?" he asked.

" _Blizzard bunnies?"_ Elsa sputtered.

Anna shrugged. "Oh, you know," she giggled, "Just in Elsa's old room, in the dark, hiding under the bed."

"Hiding under the…?"

Kristoff's voice trailed off. After a few moments, he looked to Jack, raising his eyebrows as his eyes went wide.

"Well, _that_ didn't take you very long," he breathed.

" _Kristoff!"_ Anna exclaimed.

"No, I'm actually sort of creepily impressed—"

"— _OOOOOOOH_ -kay," Elsa interrupted.

Jack was buckled over with laughter, leaning into his staff with his hand over his mouth. Elsa set her jaw, fighting the blood rushing to her face. After a few moments, Jack drew himself up, taking a step towards Kristoff.

"I—we weren't— _no_ ," Jack stammered, smiling and blushing furiously, "Kristoff—I swear—there wasn't _any_ —"

"—Uh-huh. _Suuuure_ , Frost," Kristoff laughed, pulling open the door to the private dining room. "But whatever you were doing, I'm just glad we found you. The Snow Queen can only go missing for _so_ many hours before people start noticing."

 **.**

 **.**

Elsa couldn't help but stare at him.

Absent-mindedly cutting into a slice of ham on her plate, she snuck another glance at Jack, her mind racing. Three hundred years of torture. Three _hundred years,_ and yet, here he was, with all his passion and laughter and those big kind eyes. All he really wanted in life was to help other people have fun—that much was obvious. He breathtakingly handsome and flirtatious, but apparently, he _wasn't_ trying to make the Queen of Arendelle his four thousandth casual girlfriend, like she'd originally suspected. He was brilliant, and kind, and wonderful, and now—as she had recently decided—he was the strongest person she'd ever met.

Everything about Jack Frost was beautiful.

And there were other things, too, naturally. He couldn't simply stop _there;_ no, he just _had_ to also know how to dance, and have that protective streak, and be a Guardian of Children, and—

"ELSA!"

She snapped back into focus, looking up. Anna raised her eyebrows.

"That pig is already dead, Elsa," she giggled. "You don't need to keep killing it."

Elsa sheepishly put down the knife, switching her fork into her other hand and taking a bite of the now-pulverized cut of meat. Swallowing it, hardly tasting a thing, she looked back to her sister.

"I—I'm sorry," she stammered, "You were—um, you were saying something?"

Anna smirked slightly, glancing between Elsa and Jack. Then, giving her head a little shake, she looked back to her sister.

"I was _saying,"_ Anna started again, "That I'm sure you're hungry, but that you need to save some room. We have the dessert sampling after this!"

"The what, now?" Jack asked.

"Oh. Um—right," Elsa said, looking to him. "Anna and I are doing final checks of the desserts that are going to be served at the—"

"— _Christmas Eve Ball!"_ Anna suddenly squealed.

Seeing her enthusiasm, the others laughed. Kristoff grinned, raising his glass to take a drink and shrugging in his wife's direction. "She _might_ be a _little_ excited," he chuckled.

Anna beamed, picking up a roll. "How could I _not_ be?"

Jack leaned over in his chair, gently placing his hand on Elsa's arm. She jolted, and he leaned in close to her ear.

 _"I still have no idea what anybody is talking about,"_ Jack stage-whispered.

She let out a nervous laugh, looking down to her arm. Jack sat up slightly, but didn't take his hand off, subtlety beginning to slide it down towards her wrist. Her heart leapt into her throat.

 _What the—?_

"Um—there's an old tradition," Elsa stammered, frozen as she looked frantically from his eyes, to her arm, and back into his eyes. "We're—we're starting it up again. Before—um—before the accident—you know, the accident when I was six—there was an annual ball on Christmas Eve."

"That's in—"

"—A week and a half. Right."

Struggling to fight back the blood rushing to her face, Elsa glanced up, and noticed that a few flurries of snow were beginning to materialize in the air. Shaking her head vigorously, she pulled in another breath, glancing down to her wrist as Jack's fingers curled around it.

"And—and th-then there's a ch-children's party on Christmas Day," she shook.

More flurries.

"Well, _that_ part sounds fun," Jack replied casually, beginning to move his hand onto hers under the table.

"Um—yeah."

Elsa gulped, frozen in her seat as she stared, wide-eyed, at her hand. Jack silently interlaced his fingers with her own, peering up hopefully into her face as she looked up to her sister, and then to Kristoff, and then back to her sister. Everyone was staring at her.

 _Why was everyone staring at her?!_

Anna and Kristoff simultaneously smirked, glancing to each other in a shared, silent joke. Elsa's heart started pounding, her mind racing in frantic desperation.

 _What the—?_ she thought, staring at her hand, _What is he—wha—but I—AUGH!_

Elsa abruptly sucked in her breath and reached her other hand across. As she peeled Jack's fingers off, gingerly pushing him away, she heard Kristoff draw in a long breath from across the table.

" _Ouch_ …"

Elsa jerked her head up just in time to see Anna shoot her husband a hard glare. As Jack sheepishly pulled his hand back into his lap, color rising to his cheeks, a wave of confusion swept over Elsa's face. Everyone was acting so strange. Why was everyone acting so strange?

What on _earth_ was going on?!

Jack shifted uncomfortably in his chair, biting his lip as a few flurries of his own began to materialize in the air, falling softly onto the table. Trying to hide it, he let out a nervous laugh, reaching and picking up his fork again.

" _Soooo_ ," Jack choked, struggling to keep his voice even, "It's happening _now_ , because—"

"— _Because it's Elsa's Christmas present to me_ and she's the _best sister ever and I love her!"_ Anna interrupted with a squeal of delight. "She asked if there was anything I really, really, _really_ wanted, and I decided on the Ball and the party. So, she's hosting it!"

 _What just happened?_ Elsa thought frantically, looking quickly into her lap again. _What was—what was THAT? He was trying to hold my hand? Wait. Really? No. Yes. WHAT'S GOING ON?_

"How'd you talk her into _that_ one?" Jack retorted.

"Oh, come _on,"_ Anna giggled. "Elsa's as excited as I am! It is going to be _great,_ and she is going to _love_ it, and she is going to _have fun, because she is my sister and I love her and she is going to have fun because she is going to HAVE FUN._ Aren't you, Elsa?"

 _He was trying to hold my hand. Was he? No. He couldn't have been. But, then, what was he doing? It doesn't make sense. NONE of this is making any SENSE. Jack couldn't have been trying to hold my hand. Right? It isn't—_

"—AREN'T YOU, ELSA?"

 _"_ _ **GAUGH!**_ _"_ Elsa jumped, startling back from the table and abruptly flinging her fork into the air.

Anna shrieked, flinching and diving to the side. As the fork fell back onto Elsa's plate with a loud clatter, and Kristoff burst out laughing, clapping his hand over his eyes. Elsa felt blood rushing to her face, and her brother-in-law shook his head, looking up to Jack again.

" _GEEZ_ , Frost!" Kristoff exclaimed, "What did you _do_ to her?"

"Kristoff, I _swear—_ "

"—SO, UM, ANNA," Elsa blurted, drawing herself up and struggling to regain her composure, "You—me—um, I'm what?"

Anna giggled, shaking her head. "I _asked_ you if you were excited for the Ball. And you _are…_ aren't you?"

Elsa felt her mouth fall slightly open in surprise at the question. After a moment, she gulped.

"Of _course_ I'm excited for the Ball!" Elsa lied, struggling to keep her voice even.

Kristoff's eyes narrowed, still starting at Jack. "So, you haven't got her wearing some sort of _enchanted anklet_ , or something—"

"Like I _said before_ —"

"—ABOUT THE BALL," Anna interrupted, throwing another dark glare at Kristoff again, "It's about _time_. It was a beloved old tradition, I'm told, and I mean, come _on._ It's a castle. It's Christmas Eve. We have a ballroom. Okay, three ballrooms…"

Once again taking a bite of food without tasting it, Elsa suddenly found her mind wandering back to an icy, private ballroom in the forest.

 _"_ _Mr. Frost…"_

 _"MR. FROST again?"_ Jack had laughed. " _Really?!"_

 _"Oh—I'm sorry, I just—I don't know you all that well, so—"_

 _"—We could fix that."_

Elsa nervously smiled to herself, now restraining from a giggle. Oh, my _…_

"And really, I mean, come _on,_ why have a _ballroom_ with no _balls?"_ Anna was saying enthusiastically. "Of course, we'll need to have soup, roast, and ice cream, and then—"

Elsa bit her lip, glancing to the pale young man beside her at the table. For all of his work trying to bring some fun into her life, he had been completely neglecting his own pain. This new vulnerability, which he'd hidden so well… until she asked him about his past.

Which was torture.

Jack's reaction to the hug was evidence enough of the damage—the decades and decades of loneliness had become an integral part of who he was. No _wonder_ he was so desperate for attention. She knew that she was still healing from a childhood and adolescence of isolation, but her fourteen years of shame were _nothing_ when compared to three centuries of invisibility. She could relate to it, but not comprehend it.

It certainly explained the flirting. After three hundred years alone, she'd want to be flirted with, too. It had nothing to do with _her,_ of course. It was just that she could see him, and she was a girl. Specifically, she was a girl with _ice powers_ —his same "species," as he'd said. With that perspective, his desperation to flirt with her was _more_ than understandable.

After three hundred years, he was probably ready to try flirting with rocks.

"I really have no idea how all these big royal events _work,"_ Anna was saying, pouring half a lake's worth of gravy onto her plate, "But Elsa said that she'd take care of the invitations. I think she sent them out a few weeks ago, and…"

Elsa snuck another glance at Jack. Suddenly, she found herself wanting nothing more than to fling herself upon him again, to squeeze him as hard as she could and tell him that she was here, and believed in him, and that everything was alright. If she could spend the rest of her life throwing continual reassurance and affection at him, it wouldn't be enough. To heal from something like _that?_ Three _hundred_ years?

And he had been working so hard. Trying to heal _her._

 _He said that he wanted to be more than friends… no,_ Elsa thought, glancing to Jack again, _He can't actually mean it. He doesn't know what he's saying, if he does. Ridiculous…_

She found herself studying the ice on his hood. She hadn't really looked at it all that carefully before. Beginning at his neck, where the fabric first touched his skin, the frost webbed and spiked out in graceful, frozen fractals all around, across the worn navy blue fabric, twisting down onto his arms and gathering on the edges of his pocket. It sparkled in the faint light, just like ice always did, picking up the shine of his startlingly blue eyes as the deep color of the shirt contrasted sharply with his white hair. The overall effect was incredible.

 _Goodness_ , Jack was handsome.

"So, anyway," Anna was saying excitedly, "The whole kingdom's been invited, along with some nobles, and stuff. Like our cousin, although I don't know if she's going to show…"

Elsa glanced down to her arm, where he'd touched her a few minutes before. _I wasn't rejecting you!_ she thought desperately, looking in his direction. _It was just sort of—a shock. I reacted. I reacted BADLY. Will you try that again? No. You probably won't. I've messed everything up again. I mean, if you—well—does it—maybe—?_

Without realizing it, she had shakily extended her hand a few inches towards him under the table. Jack saw it, and jumped slightly, looking up into her eyes with shock. She blushed, instantly jerking it back into her lap and staring at her napkin.

Elsa could practically feel the excited little grin spreading across Jack's face.

"…The thing about having a _ball,_ though, is that you never really _know_ who's going to come. I mean, that's just _part_ of it…"

In her peripheral vision, Elsa suddenly caught glimpse of a tiny flash of ice on the floor.

 _Squeak._

Glancing down, she realized that Jack's chair had scooted an inch closer to hers on the wood. With Anna still talking in the background across the table, he looked up, and their eyes met. Jack raised his eyebrows in question.

There was a pause.

Elsa bit her lip, carefully putting her fork onto her plate. Silently moving her hand under the table, she then flicked her fingers towards the legs of her own chair, her own little flash of ice pushing against the sides of its feet on the floor.

 _Scootch._

And it was a half-an-inch closer to his.

" _Anna_ ," Kristoff chuckled, "Sweetheart—don't you think you might be putting a little, um, _pressure_ on Elsa for this whole thing? I mean, you're so _excited_ about it. If something goes wrong—"

"—What could go wrong?" she laughed. "It's a _ball._ It's going to be _fun._ "

Sneaking another glance at Jack, and then trying to appear casual again, Elsa saw his grin widen. Under the table, he swept his hand through the air, and his chair moved towards hers again.

 _Scoot._

"I'm just worried that you're going to get yourself all hyped up, and then be disappointed," Kristoff said softly. "I mean, like, with inviting the Rock Trolls. You _know_ they aren't into this type of thing. If Grandpabbi actually _comes—"_

"—Of _course_ he's going to come!" Anna protested. "Elsa's named him the Official Arendelle Legislator of Magical Affairs."

" _What?_ That's not a thing."

"Oh, sure it is."

Underneath the table, tiny shots of ice were blasting back and forth underneath Jack and Elsa's chairs.

 _Squeak._

 _Scoot._

 _Scootch._

"And _besides,"_ Anna added, "Even if he _doesn't_ come, it's not the end of the world. The Ball is _still going to be fun."_

Kristoff grinned, popping a pastry into his mouth. "Alright," he said approvingly, "As long as you're going in with that perspecti—"

 _Scoot._

 _Shoonk._

"Um—that perspective—"

 _Scoot._

 _Scootch._

 _Shoonk._

 _Squeak._

 _Scoot._

 _Squeak—_

 _"—DO WE NEED TO LOCATE YOU TWO A PIANO BENCH?!"_

Jack and Elsa froze, suddenly remembering that they were not alone in the room.

Now elbow-to-elbow, their chairs crammed together, they simultaneously looked up, blushing furiously. Kristoff laughed, shaking his head.

"Those chairs _cannot_ physically get _any closer together,_ " Kristoff chuckled as Jack and Elsa looked at each other in embarrassment. "But, granted, neither can you two. With all your clothes on, that is."

Elsa felt more blood rushing to her face.

Anna shrugged. "I would slap him," she admitted, "But it's sort of true."

" _Anna_ ," Elsa stammered desperately, "There has been nothing—I swear— _no. Everybody has been decent the whole day,_ okay? I _promise_."

"Well," Jack mumbled, a slight grin on the edge of his mouth, "Maybe not this _morning_ , bu— _OW!"_

He recoiled from Elsa's sharp kick as Kristoff and Anna glanced to each other, raising their eyebrows.

"Well," Kristoff chuckled, looking to his wife again, "Whatever the Winter Bunnies are up to, I think it's perfectly reasonable to ask that it wait until _after_ we're done eating."

Jack and Elsa looked to each other in embarrassment again. After a moment, they each sheepishly swept one of their hands under the table, and ice blasted across the floor.

 _Scoooooooooooooooot THUNK._

And the chairs fell back onto the wood in their original places.

Anna grinned. " _Thank_ you," she laughed breathily.

"We're having enough issues as it _is,_ trying to baby-proof everything for a _normal_ kid," Kristoff chuckled. "I don't even want to _imagine_ what kind of havoc a toddler with _ice powers_ would wreak on this place—"

"— _Oh!"_ Anna exclaimed suddenly. " _Elsa!_ It's time!"

 _"It's time!"_ Elsa agreed, grateful for anything that might let her escape the situation. She then paused, biting her lip. "For what?"

"Dessert sampling…?" Anna prodded.

" _Oh!_ Yes. Right."

Elsa abruptly stood from the table, dropping her napkin onto her plate and picking it up to take in to the little cart on the side of the room. In interest of having Jack eat with them, Anna had arranged for the butler and maid that usually served them to receive an extended, paid vacation until January. Neither had objected.

"Elsa?"

Kristoff was suddenly standing as well, walking towards her. She put down the plate, turning around in confusion.

"Um," she said nervously, "Yes? Is everything okay?"

He finally stopped in front of her, staring into her eyes. "I just—" Kristoff's voice trailed off, and he shook his head slightly, leaning in a bit closer to his sister-in-law. "Before the sampling—I was—I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"Well, I suppose if—"

"— _Alone_."

A wave of confusion swept over her face. Then, Elsa fidgeted with her fingers, looking down and blushing slightly.

 _Oh._

Kristoff thought that—he thought that she and Jack had—oh no. O _oooooh_ , dear.

 _This_ was going to be a fun conversation. Time for some damage control…

"Um," Elsa choked. "Sure. Yeah."

She gulped, following her brother-in-law as he turned and started to walk from the room. As they passed the table, Jack leapt up, knocking over his staff and jumping into front of Kristoff.

"Hey—by the way," Jack said, looking into Kristoff's eyes, "Can you do me a favor?"

Kristoff paused. "Um—sure?"

Jack glanced to the side. Then, leaning into Kristoff's face, he chuckled bitterly under his breath.

" _Never_ compare me to Bunny again," Jack begged.


	35. Broken, Jagged Edges

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I LIIIIIIVE! Finals, DONE! Also, this chapter—once again—had to be split in two, because it got too long. I _hope_ to post the next chunk Sunday morning; tomorrow I travel. For those of you who have given me reviews… THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN! I have a LOT more to say, including to "Authors Like Me," but I need more time. I'll stick it with the next chapter. I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN YOU I LOVE YOOOOOOU! (This also goes for the people PMing me that I haven't yet responded to; it's been a crazy couple weeks!)**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo… like usual. Time to bring in that over-protective brother figure again. ;)**

 **.**

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 **35: BROKEN, JAGGED EDGES**

Walking through the door into his and Anna's bedroom, Elsa struggled to keep her breathing even, her heart in her throat. This was going to be fine. It was all going to be _just_ fine.

 _Come ON, Elsa. You can do this,_ she thought desperately.

Kristoff turned and closed the door, twisting on one of the lamps and walking across the carpet to yank the curtains shut for the evening. The bedroom—Anna's childhood bedroom—was in the process of being partially turned into a nursery, on the side where Elsa's bed and dresser had once been (before the accident when she was six). Usually, the royal babies would be kept in separate sleeping quarters, but Anna would not hear of it. She wanted the child—or perhaps children, Elsa thought—to be with their parents, from the first moment that they started breathing. And so, it was done.

Or rather, Queen Elsa saw _to it_ that it was done. The Council didn't approve of much of _anything_ that broke tradition, but this was such a tiny, domestic detail that she was able to easily override their opinions.

Just one more thing that Anna didn't need to know about.

Kristoff pulled up a chair for his sister-in-law, then taking a step back and leaning against the bed, folding his arms over his chest. Elsa, seeing the worry creasing his brow, bit her lip as she sat down. He wasn't any more excited for this conversation than she was.

Well, then. Time for the Queen Face.

Elsa regally drew herself up in the chair, trying to appear calm, silently begging for the air around her to _not_ become spontaneously populated with snowflakes.

"You might as well just say it, Kristoff," she said calmly. "Whatever is on your mind. It's alright."

 _Please, oh please, do NOT actually tell me what's on your mind._

Kristoff shifted uncomfortably against the edge of the bed, staring at his feet. Elsa pulled in another deep breath.

"And before you start," she added quickly, "I just—alright, I know that the thing under the bed with Jack looks really bad. Alright? But nothing— _happened_. I mean, nothing _bad_ happened, if that's you're thinking. I _promise_."

Kristoff let out a sharp bark of laughter, shaking his head. "I wasn't going to ask. But we'll pretend I believe you," Kristoff admitted softly. His smile then faded again. After a few moments, absent-mindedly kicking at the carpet, he bit his lip, looking up into Elsa's face. "I—I just wanted to make sure you're being— _careful_."

Elsa's eyes widened.

" _Careful?"_ she sputtered, "What do you mean, _careful?_ Of _course_ I'm being careful! Arendelle is still my number one priori—"

"—I meant careful with Jack."

A wave of confusion swept over Elsa's face. Kristoff pulled in a long breath, looking to his feet, and then back into her eyes.

"He's—um," Kristoff muttered, "He's a little—fragile."

Elsa glanced down into her lap, twisting the fabric on her skirt. Having seen Jack's— _reaction_ —to the hug she was devastatingly aware of this fact.

Not that Kristoff needed to know the details.

"I know," she said softly.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and then opened them again, giving his head another shake and calculating his words carefully. "Elsa, I _really_ don't think you—"

"—Three hundred years?"

Kristoff stopped. After a few moments, he raised his eyebrows slightly.

"So, he _did_ tell you," he said.

Elsa nodded.

Kristoff swallowed hard, uncrossing his arms and gingerly putting his hands down on the edge of the bed. "He—um—I know that Frost jokes and laughs and tries to flirt with you, but if you get to know him," Kristoff sighed, "There's something—broken—in that guy. Like, something was cracked, deep inside him. A long time ago. He's—he's a _broken person_ , Elsa."

"So am I."

Kristoff straightened up, pushing himself away from the bed and starting to walk towards her. "I'm not talking, you know, a little hurt. I'm talking _deep, permanent_ emotional scarring." Kristoff folded his arms over his chest again, stopping in front of her. "When you—when you stopped believing—that _shattered_ him. I mean, his entire _world_ was—"

"—I know what it did to him."

He scoffed. "Then how can _you_ say that you know what it's like to be broke—"

"—Because I spent most of my childhood, and my _entire_ adolescence, believing that I was a monster?"

Kristoff's eyes widened slightly in shock. Elsa shook her head, pushing herself up out of the chair. Struggling to keep her breathing even, she walked over to a table on the side of the room.

"Here… let me put it this way. Okay?" she quavered.

Kristoff watched as she swirled her hand above the table, a beautiful, simple vase made of ice spiraling into existence. Then, concentrating hard, Elsa focused on the most slender part of its neck, gently gripping its sides.

 _CRACK!_

A jagged fissure shot through the ice, the top of the crystalline vase splintering and separating from its base. With her brother-in-law watching in confusion, Elsa pulled in a deep breath, taking to two pieces of the now-broken vase and turning around to face him again.

"Broken… broken," she said softly, holding up each piece in turn. Elsa then drew herself up, and placed the top half of the vase on its bottom, slightly shifting the ice until it clicked into place like a puzzle piece. "And… _not_ broken!"

She bit her lip, looking up to him with a hopeful expression on her face as she held it out. After a few moments, Kristoff sighed.

"That only works if the two edges are totally aligned, Elsa."

"But that's it _exactly,"_ Elsa responded, turning back and placing the vase on the table. She then picked up the top piece again, curling her fingers around the delicate ice. "I know that Jack is broken. He's _really_ broken. Okay? But all of his broken, jagged edges…" her voice trailed off, and she looked back up to Kristoff. "I—I can't help but feel like they match my own."

Elsa smiled weakly, blushing slightly as she looked down to the broken fragment of the vase in her hand. Tossing it gently to herself, she then carefully rejoined it with its base, swirling her hand over the crack and melding the two sections together into a solid piece. Kristoff said nothing, shifting as he leaned against the wall. Elsa pulled in another deep breath.

"See?" she laughed breathily. "That's why… well, why I keep spending all this time with him, even when I'm just doing the work I needed to be doing anyway. And Jack is _very_ smart, for the record. As long as it doesn't distract me from my responsibilities, I feel like our friendship—well, I feel like it's helping _both_ of us. You know?"

" _Friendship?"_ Kristoff stammered suddenly. "This honestly looks like a _friendship_ to you?"

"Well—yes," she replied, a wave of confusion sweeping over her face. "What would you call it?"

"Hmm… well, there's the spending all your time together. And how you keep watching each other. And touching each other. And, oh! Right! How about the _continual blushing?"_ Kristoff scoffed. "Yeah… this is _definitely_ just a friendship, Elsa."

Her heart leapt into her throat with shock.

"But it _is_ friendship!" she protested.

"Then explain the spontaneous snowfall that broke out over the potatoes when he tried to grab your hand."

Elsa's throat tightened in sudden embarrassment, blood rushing to her face as she fidgeted with her fingers. She then shifted uncomfortably on her feet, leaning against the table.

"You saw that?" she choked.

" _Everybody_ saw that."

Elsa bit her lip again. After a few moments, Kristoff's eyes narrowed, and he drew in a long breath.

"Wait a minute. Frost _was_ just going for your _hand,"_ he said carefully, "Um… _right?"_

"What do you mean? As opposed to what?"

Kristoff crossed his arms over his chest, raising a single eyebrow.

Elsa gasped.

"OH MY WORD," she stammered, slapping the edge of the table and gripping it so hard that her knuckles turned white. "MY HAND _. YES._ "

"Just making sure—"

"— _How could you even ASK me that?"_

" _Hey!"_ Kristoff retorted, "It was _under the table,_ okay? WE sure couldn't see what he was—"

"—So _that's_ what you assume?!"

 _"No!_ I _assumed_ he was trying to hold your hand! But just in case he—well, dear _sister,_ I've got to know if I need to add _Kill Jack Frost_ onto my Holiday To-Do List, _okay?"_

She set her jaw, glaring at him. "And—for the record—the b-blushing might not even really be blushing," Elsa sputtered desperately, changing the subject back. "Jack and I are both just really pale."

"Incorrect. You're translucent." Kristoff shook his head. "Elsa… the reason that I wanted to talk to you was because… well, honestly, I'm _worried_ about you getting romantically involved with Jack Frost. I mean, the stuff at the table. That was entertaining to watch and everything, but in all seriousness, this is…" He paused, pulling in another deep breath before slowly looking back up into his sister-in-law's eyes again. "Elsa… this is… _dangerous_."

The words hit her like a wall of icy water.

Shifting on her feet again, she looked down, nervously twisting her spike heel into the carpet. After a few moments of silence, she swallowed hard.

" _Dangerous?"_ Elsa choked.

Kristoff nodded. His face was grave, and he sighed.

"I'm worried about you," Kristoff said. "Well— _both_ of you. I mean, I care about you guys, and I don't want either one of you to be heartbroken, but…"

His voice trailed off. Elsa drew herself up.

"But _what?"_ she quavered.

Kristoff pulled in a long breath. "But… um," he stammered, "Elsa—if something goes wrong—I mean, if either one of you loses control—it could potentially be catastrophic. I mean, it could hurt a _lot_ of people. Okay?"

"What are you saying?"

"You realize who this guy _is…_ don't you?"

Elsa looked down, staring at the ground and twisting the edge of her capelet. After a few moments, she gave her head a little shake.

"I know exactly who he is _,"_ she said quietly. "He's _Jack Frost._ He's—he's a legend. I _know_ he is. I mean, you're probably right, if you're thinking he's too good for me, but—"

"— _Gaaaaaurgh_ ," Kristoff groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm not thinking about your stupid lack of self-esteem, Elsa! I'm thinking of what _could_ happen, if Jack gets upset again and loses control. I'm thinking of the _most violent blizzard that this world has ever seen."_

Elsa's eyes widened. Blood rushing to her face, she shifted uncomfortably against the table as her brother-in-law walked towards her, pausing right in front of her and leaning in close to her face.

"That _light little snowfall?_ Back after your coronation?" Kristoff whispered intensely, "That is nothing— _nothing—_ compared to what _could_ happen, if you break that guy's heart. Take that quaint little dusting of yours, multiply it by a _thousand_ , and have THAT happen to the _ENTIRE WORLD!"_

Elsa bit her lip. Drawing in her breath, she blinked hard, shaking her head slightly again.

" _Kristoff_ ," she choked slowly, "You… you can't break the heart of someone that _isn't in love with you."_

"Oh, you _clueless—"_

 _"—_ And _besides_ ," Elsa continued, slightly louder, "Even if Jack _did_ lose control—oh, come on. I don't really imagine that it could be _worse_ than when I—"

"— _OH!_ You _don't!"_

"Kristoff, I've _seen_ what he can do! Alright?" she protested. "I mean, we _had_ a snowball fight, and—well, frankly, I felt I was going easy on him. I mean, he wasn't—"

"—Oh, yeah, Frost _totally_ wasn't being gentle with you," Kristoff scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Seeing as you're his delicate little flower, and all."

Elsa stopped in shock, her face flushing. After another moment, her eyes narrowed, and she glared into Kristoff's eyes.

"For _your_ information," she said coldly, "There are a lot of things that _I_ can do, that he can't. Well—that he can't _yet_ , at least. Like, we built another ice structure out in the woods. Guess who pulled up the foundation? Me. I make _really_ solid, big buildings. Oh, and how about my snow monsters? He can't do _that,_ either."

"And you know what _he's_ known for? _Snowstorms,_ Elsa. MASSIVE. SNOWSTORMS."

She fell quiet again. Kristoff walked to the other side of the room, where the nursery was being put in, picking up a wooden rod and a piece of sandpaper that were sitting on a pile of wood next to a large crib made out of ice. The rod was going to become part of a wooden crib for the newborn child. Shortly after discovering that Anna was pregnant, she and Anna learned that Kristoff had something of a fantasy of building his first child's crib by himself. Despite what a sweet idea it was, Elsa had been the one to figure out, after multiple failed attempts, that Kristoff didn't know a thing about woodworking. So, she had made him a prototype out of ice, so that he would have something to work off of.

He was learning.

"I know that you weren't raised by rock trolls like I was," Kristoff said, walking back towards her, "Okay? I know that you _didn't_ grow up being taught about this guy."

"I did plenty of research, though. I happen to know that—"

"—Not the same," he interrupted. Elsa watched as Kristoff tossed the rod to himself, leaning against the bed again as he began to rub the sandpaper up and down its length. "Grandpabbi's mother saw Jack Frost in _action_ , once. In the sky."

Elsa's breath caught. What was _that_ supposed to mean? Had she—had she _not_ seen him in action?

Kristoff sighed, looking down to the rod and shaking his head. Elsa shakily drew herself up, pulling in a deep breath.

"Enlighten me," she said carefully.


	36. Invested

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, everybody! Sorry; I suppose it's Sunday NIGHT, not Sunday morning. But anyway, three things: First off, thank you SO MUCH for the reviews; it REALLY encourages me to keep trying to turn this out, if people are actually enjoying it! Honestly, I still can't believe people are reading this. THANK YOU SO MUCH; YOU ARE ALL WONDERFUL AND I LOVE YOU! Secondly, there's been a sudden influx of guest reviews and views… (which I love). Has this been shared on a pinterest board somewhere, or something? If it has, I have no IDEA how to tell. (Halp. I'm still pretty new to fanfic!) Third, for "Authors Like Me" You requested a code word! At first, I was thinking that I'd do something really clever, like write you a little Mathematica program to spit out 100,000 random letter combinations from which you could choose any word that happened to form (a "code" word… get it? A word, from computer code? Ha? Ha ha?), but then it occurred to me: I don't feel like it. (For the record, if you prefer, I could also code it into either C++ or Matlab, both of which I am competent in, and both of which I hate.) So, how about this: As soon as I can, I'll set up a special email for people who can't PM me, so that I can be contacted. Okie-doke?**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo. Because, of COURSE there is.**

 **.**

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 **36: INVESTED**

Kristoff shook his head and stopped sanding, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"Seeing Jack Frost in action—almost no one ever _has,_ " he said, gesturing with the rod.

"Why not?"

Kristoff grinned. "Well," he chuckled, "He's usually surrounded by a _blizzard._ And is a few thousand feet up."

Elsa felt a little blood rushing to her cheeks at the realization. "Of course," she choked. "But—but Grandpabbi's mother—"

"—Saw him. Right," Kristoff shrugged. "And apparently, it was incredible."

 _I'm sure he was,_ Elsa thought. She drew herself up again, her eyes narrowing.

"How so?" she asked carefully.

Kristoff resumed absent-mindedly sanding, his eyebrows lifting slightly. "Grandpabbi said—well, Grandpabbi's mother—she was up in top of the mountains, and she could see the storm forming from its side. _Really_ rare position to be in," he explained. "She said that the _entire valley_ —as far as she could see—was filled with swirling, thrashing storm clouds. She was above the cloudbank, and it was—well, she described it as being a _white ocean_ , all around the mountain."

Elsa said nothing, transfixed. It was just—wow. Really?

Jack could _do_ that?

"And then, this _shape_ shot out of the center of the storm," he continued, "Darting into the upper atmosphere, and then diving back into the clouds. She only saw the shape for a couple seconds, but—well, it was pretty obvious to her, who it was."

"He was controlling _the whole thing?"_ Elsa whispered.

A tiny hint of a smirk tugged at the edge of Kristoff's mouth. He raised his eyebrows, pausing in his sanding for a moment and looking to her.

"He's _Jack Frost_ ," Kristoff chuckled. "Remember that whole _Spirit of Winter_ thing? Who do you _think_ was controlling it?"

Elsa's heart fluttered. Feeling blood rushing to her face, she clasped her hands together in her lap, shyly looking down to her wrists. _This_ was the young man that had caught her in the snow? _This_ was the young man that she had kissed on the previous afternoon? _This_ was the young man that—

In her mind's eye, Jack was blushing furiously, perched on the library table and running his fingers through his hair.

 _I guess I DO have a favorite type of ice._

Elsa bit her lip, blushing harder.

Shaking his head, Kristoff laughed softly, seeing his sister-in-law's expression. He resumed sanding the rod, kicking out his right foot and crossing it over his ankle as he leaned back against the bed.

"Yeah. You are _definitely_ just friends," he muttered, the smile twitching out of the side of his mouth again as he inspected the rod. "Anyway, though—yeah. According to Grandpabbi's mother, the _entire storm_ across the valley was being controlled by a scrawny, laughing guy with white hair and a stick."

"Jack can _do_ that?"

"Who do you think _brings_ kids all the blizzards and the snow days?" Kristoff continued as she looked back up to him, her eyes wide. "That guy is _insanely_ powerful. Grandpabbi's mother said that it was like the _entire sky_ was trying to fight against him, all at once. And Jack Frost just—well, he just casually laughed, and flew around the mountains in the snowstorm until he'd successfully wrestled it into submission."

"That sounds… _amazing,"_ Elsa breathed.

A long, awkward silence fell over the room.

" _The storm!"_ Elsa blurted desperately, Kristoff bursting out into hysterical laughter and sinking down against the side of the bed, " _I was talking about the storm!_ You know—like— _seeing_ him making a snowstorm—I— _aurgh."_

Kristoff had clapped his hand over his eyes, buckling over guffawing and pounding the side of the bed with his fist. After a few moments, he shook his head, pushing himself up again and looking to his sister-in-law. "OOOOOOOOOh, I _reeeeeeeally_ should have just kept my mouth shut," he laughed, gasping for breath. "I was trying to convince you that getting involved with Frost was a _bad_ idea. Clearly, I've had the opposite effect."

"You know exactly what I meant, Kristoff!"

"You have _such_ a crush on him!"

"I do _not!"_

He smirked, raising his eyebrows. Elsa drew herself up, unsuccessfully trying to fight the blood back away from her face, as Kristoff pushed himself up and started sanding the rod again.

"What, exactly, _were_ you two doing under the bed?" he chuckled.

Elsa crossed her arms over her chest, trying to appear casual as she shifted on her feet.

"Talking," she replied.

Kristoff didn't look convinced.

" _And…?"_ he prompted.

Elsa pressed her lips together, her breath catching. Hiding it, she then quickly shrugged.

"And, I gave him a hug," she added reluctantly.

He stopped sanding the rod.

"Uh… _huh,"_ Kristoff said, rolling his eyes.

"Kristoff, it was _just a hug."_

"Did this _hug_ last for more than ten minutes?"

Elsa opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again, pulling in a sharp breath and drawing herself up.

"No," she lied.

Kristoff raised his eyebrows.

"You hesitated."

"No, I—no, I didn't!"

Elsa felt her throat harden with embarrassment, a new wave of nausea sweeping over her as Kristoff's sweet smile crooked into a little smirk.

"Basically," he chuckled, "You cuddled with him."

"Wha—I— _no!"_

"DAWWWW, YOU CUDDLED WID HIM."

" _Keep—it—down!"_ she hissed. "I—am—the _Queen!_ I do NOT— _cuddle—_ with people—"

"Oooh, bud _appawently_ , da Queen _WILL_ cuddle with thumbody if ith Jack FWOST—"

"— _Kristoff_ ," Elsa gritted, blushing furiously, "If you say that word—one more time—"

"—Cuddled?"

"— _I will have you executed,"_ she finished icily.

Kristoff shook his head, laughing softly under his breath as he resumed sanding. After a few moments passed, the sly little smirk spread across his face again, and he looked up to his sister-in-law.

"Ith Eltha embawwassed of dah snuggles?"

" _Auuuuuuuuurgh_ ," Elsa groaned, "Kristoff—we're just—"

"—Just friends?"

" _Yes!"_

" _Really_."

Elsa's face flushed, and she looked down, twisting her heel into the carpet. The silence fell again as Kristoff's smile faded. He then sighed, shifting uncomfortably against the edge of the bed and slowly looking back into her eyes.

"You're playing with fire, Elsa," he said softly.

Elsa set her jaw. "Wrong. We're playing with _ice_ ," she retorted, drawing herself up. "And, you know what? It's _fun._ It is _really. Really. FUN."_

Blushing furiously, she turned away, leaning onto her hands over the table and staring down at the icy vase she'd made a few minutes earlier. She could practically feel Kristoff's gaze on her back as she struggled to keep herself together, a few flurries of snow materializing out of the air around her.

From somewhere behind her, she heard her brother-in-law let out a long sigh.

"My _word,_ you're in love with him."

Elsa's back stiffened. She didn't respond, gripping the edge of the table and willing the snow flurries to stop. _Conceal!_ She thought desperately.

The flurries began appearing faster.

"Well, if you two are already in this deep, I guess there's nothing that can be done to prevent it," Kristoff started again. "I just hope that you realize how difficult it will be to back out, Elsa."

"There's nothing to back out of."

"Uh-huh. Right. You know," he chuckled bitterly, "When I started calling you guys _Winter Bunnies,_ it was because I just thought you two were sort of cute. You know, how you stuck together like glue, from the moment he showed up. But that little episode at the table—I didn't realize how _much_ you two were already emotionally invested in this. And how bad it could potentially get, if this snowy little love affair turns sour."

"There's nothing _to_ turn sour!" Elsa protested weakly, walking over to the chair again and collapsing into it, "We're _friends!_ Jack would _never_ be interested in me like that—"

"— _Elsa—"_

 _"—_ And even if, by some _miracle,_ he _was,"_ she interrupted, "He _wouldn't_ lose control if it didn't work out!"

"Are you sure about that?"

She fell quiet again. He placed the rod and sandpaper on the bed, crossing the room to where she was sitting. Dropping his voice to a whisper, Kristoff then leaned in close to Elsa's face.

"If the _Spirit of Winter_ goes berserk, we are _all very dead."_ Kristoff put his hands on Elsa's shoulders. " _Please._ Just marry him. Sleep with him—"

"—Oh, now you _want_ me to sleep with him?!"

"Well, Frost is obviously eager enough."

" _HOW—"_

"—And frankly, I _don't even care_ ," Kristoff interrupted, slightly louder. "At this point, I'm a lot more concerned about preventing an emotionally-induced _ice age_ than I am about your virtue."

"Our _virtue?!"_ Elsa sputtered, "WHAT the _—!_ You know that we'd _never—"_

"—Hey, _who's_ the one getting up close and personal with one of _The Guardians_ under the bed?" he retorted angrily. "You can't help it if he likes you, but—"

"— _Kristoff!"_ Elsa gritted, "NOTHING. HAPPENED."

"If you say so, dear sister. But if you're going to get romantically involved with Jack Frost—oh, don't give me that; you _clearly_ are," he snapped, holding up his hand as Elsa opened her mouth to protest, "You've _can't afford_ to ignore the potential for disaster. I'm _begging_ you, Elsa. Whatever you do, do _not_ break this guy's heart. I just don't want him to get depressed and freeze Europe, alright?"

Elsa set her jaw again, staring into her lap and refusing to meet her brother-in-law's gaze. A hard silence swept over them, and she fidgeted with her skirt, fighting the blood rushing to her face.

After a few more moments, she slapped her hands down onto the arms of the chair, pushing herself onto her feet.

"Thank you for your concern, dear _brother,"_ Elsa shook, "But I—Jack and I are _friends._ Frankly, this is the first real _friendship_ I've ever really had, and I'm _not_ letting it go that easily, no matter _what_ you think of it."

He didn't respond at first, taking a few steps back. Elsa snuck a quick glance at the vase on the table, and then turned away from him, walking for the door.

"You know," Kristoff said softly, "Maybe—maybe you're right."

She paused.

Without turning around, Elsa bit her lip, hearing her brother-in-law's approaching footsteps. Right behind her, he stopped.

"Maybe this— _friendship—_ is actually a good thing. I mean, despite the danger," Kristoff added quickly. "…Maybe it _wouldn't_ be a terrible thing for the Snow Queen to have a little _fun_ in her life."

Another silence fell. Finally, Elsa swallowed hard.

"I know," she choked. "I know that I probably need to have a little fun in my life. It's just that I—"

She stopped abruptly, blushing. As Elsa shook her head, starting to walk towards the door again, Kristoff leapt in front of her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"You _what?"_

Elsa stared at the ground, closing her eyes.

"I just…" her voice trailed off, and Elsa sighed. Then, taking another deep breath, she hesitantly looked up into his gaze again.

"I just think he needs to have a little _love_ ," Elsa whispered. "In his."


	37. Touch

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **First of all: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOOOOOU AGAIN for the reviews; you cannot know how much they mean to me!**

 **So, I went ahead and showed a friend of mine from home—someone from whom the information could NEVER get back to the Physics Department, thank heavens—Ice Alliance. I took her through the explanation of the rest of the story that I've got thus far, showing her all the bits and pieces of future scenes, my plans, the plot twists, the backstories, etc. etc. etc. We just sat down, and I explained everything I have planned for Ice Alliance.**

 **It took me _seven and a half hours._ At the end, I was weirdly validated: She agreed; the plot hasn't even gotten STARTED yet, and all the stuff we've been doing thus far is BORING compared to some of the stuff coming up (but don't hold your breath; we've got a lot of ground to cover first). I mean, come ON—I haven't even INTRODUCED ALL THE MAJOR CHARACTERS YET, M'KAY?! XD So, for this, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for sticking it out with me! I promise, this will get interesting eventually! ;)**

 **As for the email, so that people can contact me outside of fanfiction… I'm putting it on the next one; I still have to make it, but I figured that people would probably prefer to get this chapter up faster. Like usual, I've had to break this chapter in two already for length, so hopefully, the next will be up fairly soon. Love you all, I'm sorry I suck, and have a fantabulous day!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo… as usual.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **37: TOUCH**

"What on earth is _taking_ them so long?" Anna breathed.

Holding her enormous stomach and lurching to the bedroom door, she raised her fist again to knock, but then hesitated, pausing. Deciding against it, Anna took a step back, turning away and stumbling down the hall towards Jack again. She gave him a sympathetic half-smile, shaking her head.

"Don't be too intimidated by Kristoff," she reassured him. "He can be a bit—overprotective."

"Yeah, I think I'm picking up on that."

Jack nervously spun his staff on the ground, sneaking another glance down the hall towards the bedroom door. His heart leapt into his throat, and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. What the blizzards was Kristoff _telling_ her?

When Jack had tried to hold Elsa's hand under the table—okay, well, he _thought_ he was being subtle. In three hundred years of pranking, he had seen more than his fair share of sorry saps attempting to "make moves" on young women in this manner, and their respective ladies had an entertaining variety of responses. Some would accept it, some would reject it, and some—like Elsa—wouldn't have the faintest idea of what to do. Usually, a rejection would result in something subtle; a squeak, a soft shoving away, or the classic paralyzed blushing. _Any_ of these responses would have been easily hidden from Kristoff, if Elsa had been a normal young woman. Which she wasn't.

In making his move under the table, Jack had neglected to take into account that Elsa was the only young woman on the face of the planet who reacted to panic by _triggering indoor snowstorms._

Well.

 _That_ was embarrassing.

He looked down the hall towards the door again, biting his lip. _Come ON, Kristoff! You can't blame me for trying!_ Jack thought desperately, _You don't know what it's like to be—alone! I just—I—I've NEVER gotten to touch anyone like that before, alright? YOU go for three hundred years without touching anyone! I like touching Elsa, okay?_

Jack's eyes widened at the sudden realization.

 _I like touching Elsa._

His throat hardened suddenly with embarrassment, the new self-awareness falling onto him like an anvil. He _did_ like touching Elsa. Perhaps _like_ wasn't a strong enough word, but…

 _I. Like. Touching. Elsa._

Jack closed his eyes, as if in pain. _Wow,_ he thought miserably. _That even sounds creepy in my head._

He bit his lip, blowing a clump of white hair out of his face and leaning his head back against the wall. Maybe Kristoff was _right,_ telling Elsa to stay away from him. If that's what he was doing, anyway. As for Jack, how do you walk up and just _say_ to a guy, _Hi! I like touching your sister-in-law!_

Jack glanced to the bedroom door.

 _I like touching your sister-in-law._

A shudder ran through him at the thought. _That_ was a phrase that probably ranked pretty high on the Top Ten Ways To Antagonize a Girl's Brother. In terms of statements guaranteed to get one punched in the face, it was probably right up there with, _Nice to meet you! Please punch me in the face!_

Jack gulped.

 _Alrighty, Kristoff,_ he mentally started again, kicking at the carpet, _When I say I like touching your sister-in-law, I just—I mean—okay, I like touching your sister-in-law. How else can I—I SWEAR I'M NOT A CREEP! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!_

He pressed his lips together, gazing pleadingly down the corridor. Jack then let out a long sigh, looking up to the turning top of his shepherd's crook as he absent-mindedly spun it on the floor.

 _Maybe it's just the way I'm phrasing it,_ he thought, catching the staff. He pulled in his breath slowly, imagining Kristoff standing in front of him.

 _Okaaaaay, Kristoff,_ he began again in his mind. _I know that I said I like touching your sister-in-law, but what I really MEANT is that I—I like FEELING_ _your sister-in-laOOOOOOH that is so much worse._

Jack drew himself up, clutching the staff.

 _I enjoy the sensation of having her skin against my own and WOW, JACK._

"So…"

Jack snapped back into focus again. Anna was looking into his face expectantly, her eyebrows slightly raised.

"Sorry," he stammered, "I—what?"

She giggled. "I asked you how you ended up here. Like, how did you Elsa actually _meet?"_

The question caught Jack off guard.

"Um… well… long story short," he muttered, trying to keep his voice even, "I became a Guardian last March. On Easter. And North—um, Santa Claus—well, I apparently made the Nice List this year. So, his present to me was sending me here to meet Elsa."

"Santa Claus' _Christmas present_ to you was sending you to _meet my sister?"_ Anna squealed with delight.

"Um—right."

Anna stumbled over to the wall next to Jack, leaning against it with a dazed, dreamy smile on her face. After a few moments of drumming her fingers on her pregnant stomach, she paused, looking to him in confusion.

"Wait a minute," she started, "Christmas isn't for another week and a half. Why—"

"—The List is finalized two weeks before."

" _OooOOOoooh!"_

Jack shrugged, smiling and shifting his fingers on the staff. It was at times like this that he realized how privileged he actually _was_ , being reminded that most people didn't have access to this sort of knowledge. As Anna pulled in another breath, he looked back to her again.

"Then—wait," she continued. "What happens to those extra two weeks?"

"They roll over into the next year. But—uh," Jack grinned, gesturing to Anna's stomach, "Don't—um, don't tell the kid that, m'kay?"

Jack mouthed a silent _shh_ , raising his eyebrows and putting a finger to his lips. Anna giggled, and he looked back down, absent-mindedly kicking at the carpet. Never a bad thing to get along with The Sister. Right?

In his mind's eye, Jack found himself under the bed again, holding Elsa in his arms.

For three hundred years, he hadn't really been able to touch— _anyone_ —in fact, the times he had _been_ touched (before becoming a Guardian) were so few and far between that he could literally count them on one hand. There was the time that Sandy put his hand on Jack's shoulder. And the time that Phil had managed to almost catch his ankle, after Jack had made one of his many attempts to break into the Workshop. That was _really_ close. Actually, during _that_ little ordeal, the ever-determined Phil (armed with Magic Snowglobes for transport) had chased Jack so far South that they'd ended up somewhere in Canada. And thus, the legend of Bigfoot began.

That was _still_ hilarious.

There were a couple other times that he had been brushed by one of the other Raised Ones, but then—the morning that Jack officially became a Guardian—Jamie had hugged him. Jack remembered that moment just like it was yesterday, and he always would. The pure and beautiful love of a child was the love of _somebody,_ and a hug was the physical manifestation of that love. Even though it _was_ just a little boy—an innocent, wonderful little boy—Jack would never forget the feeling of having someone's body, _someone else's body_ , against his own. Getting a hug, after three _hundred_ years of invisibility? Basically, it felt like it was the first time in forever. It was incredible.

Multiply that feeling times a thousand, and _that_ was how he felt touching Elsa.

Her braid. Her arm. Her hand. Her _anything_ , really; just touching, _being_ touched, reassuring himself that he _wasn't_ invisible, that she _wasn't_ a dream, even though she was something of a dream come true… After all, she was Ice Powers Girl. She was the Snow Queen _._ But, no, of course, Elsa wasn't just _that._ She was brilliant, and selfless, and compassionate, and…

The image from that morning flashed across his mind.

A sly little hint of a smirk tugged at the edge of Jack's mouth. He wasn't usually a big fan of titles, but as the official Guardian of Fun, he had some _fantastic_ ideas for _—_

 _AUGH! NO! Don't think of her like that!_ he jolted, clenching his teeth together. _We're FRIENDS. JUST friends. This is a FRIENDSHIP, and friendship is GREAT, and daaaaaaaaaang, girl—!_

 _Wait, NO!_

He shook his head vigorously, biting down hard on his lip. Friendship. They were _just. Friends_. Elsa had told him that herself. And—despite how much he wanted something more—friendship, he had to admit, felt pretty good. That was what he'd actually _asked_ North for in the _first_ place. Right? Jack knew that he should be content—Elsa really _did_ understand. The ice powers, the loneliness, the weight of responsibility; she just— _got_ it. And he loved everything about her. Her ideas, her kind heart, her loyalty to Anna, her determination to do what she thought was right, her…

 _Her_ hug.

Well.

THAT _._

 _That_ was—it was just _whoa,_ and she—she, and— _soft_ —there was really—WOW— _oh, Kristoff, don't you DARE mess this_ —ooOOOOooh, _geez_. That was just—GIRL— _Elsa,_ and— _!_

Heh.

 _WOOOOOOOW._

Jack smiled sheepishly, biting his lip. He fidgeted with his fingers, his right hand twitching involuntarily at the thought.

"Want to feel my stomach?" Anna offered suddenly.

He jolted.

 _Huh?_

"Um… sorry?" Jack choked.

"My stomach. The baby?" she responded. "Your hand keeps twitching towards it. It's okay if you want feel it," Anna laughed. "Everybody does."

 _"Oh!_ Right! _"_

 _Yes! Baby! I was definitely thinking of feeling—BABY! Not—YOUR SISTER! Noooo, sir-EE!_

Pulling himself up with his staff, Jack took a step towards Anna. Suddenly, it hit him. People touched the stomachs of pregnant women all the time.

But—uh— _he_ hadn't.

His heart pounding, Jack hesitantly reached towards Anna's stomach, his hand shaking slightly. With a good-natured laugh, Elsa's sister took his hand and then suddenly paused.

"Wow. You really _are_ cold," she exclaimed. "Your hands are even colder than Elsa's!"

Jack shrugged, smiling self-consciously. "Yeah..."

As she started to pull his hand towards her baby bump, he froze.

"Uh—wait," Jack stammered, biting his lip, "Are you—Anna, are you sure this is such a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, gently pulling his hand back away from her.

"I just—" Jack gulped, shaking his head. "I'm—I'm _Jack_ _Frost_ , Anna. I mean, the kid—I don't want to freeze—"

"—You won't." She beamed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"How are you so sure?"

"I'm not."

A look of confusion swept over his face. Anna smiled good-naturedly, shrugging.

"Jack… my child is going to have an _aunt_ with _ice powers_ ," she whispered. "He or she is going to have to learn to get accustomed to the cold at some point. Let's just call this a crazy trust exercise, alright?"

Before Jack could protest, Anna yanked him forward and placed his hand firmly on her stomach.

After a few moments, his fingers sinking into the thick gold and olive fabric of Anna's dress, Jack shifted on his feet. He'd—uh—never done this before. Was he expected to say something? How long was he supposed to stay standing he _OH MY WORD IT MOVED!_

Anna giggled, seeing Jack's stunned expression. He blushed slightly with embarrassment, looking up into her eyes with a nervous laugh.

"It—uh," Jack stammered, "Child—um, energetic."

" _That's_ for sure!" Anna laughed, rocking back and forward again on the balls of her feet. "I'm thinking that they get that from me."

 _THAT,_ Jack thought, _Is for DANG certain._

"As for _you_ , though," Anna continued, "See? No harm done."

The baby shifted again, and Jack jolted. Biting his lip, he looked up to Elsa's sister.

"I don't think the kid is too fond of—cold," he admitted.

The child seemed to squirm again, as if trying to get away from the chill of Jack's palm. Anna giggled and shook her head, leaning down to her stomach as far as she could. " _Heeeeeey_ , little one!" she sang softly, shifting Jack's hand to the side. "It's okay! This is your Uncle Jack!"

Jack snapped his head up. "Wait, what?"

"Oh—sorry," Anna giggled, readjusting herself on her feet and leaning down to her stomach again. "This is your _future_ Uncle Jack!" she corrected in the same whispered sing-song.

Jack felt blood rushing to his face.

Deciding that he'd stood with his palm on Anna's stomach for long enough, he gingerly lifted his hand off, taking a step back. This young woman, even smaller in stature than her sister but having a similarly delicate build, was nearly falling over from the weight of her belly. Although he'd never actually _felt_ a pregnant woman's stomach before, Jack, as a Guardian of Children, had seen his fair share of expecting mothers over the course of three hundred years, and had a pretty good idea of what "four months pregnant" was _supposed_ to look like.

There was definitely more than one kid in there.

"Seriously, though," Anna started again, raising her eyebrows as she leaned back against the wall, "You still haven't answered my question. I mean, okay, Santa Claus sent you to meet Elsa. But how did you _actually_ meet?"

Jack grimaced, staring at the floor. After a few moments, he pulled himself up on his staff.

"Well—um," he said carefully, "It was night. When I fell out over the fiord. I—he'd told me that the Queen had ice powers, and—uh—well, I wanted to see it for myself. So, I was kind of snooping through her study, and then it was her _room_ , and—"

"—You _BROKE INTO HER ROOM?"_

Jack bit his lip. He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again, letting out a nervous bark of laughter and blushing furiously.

" _Wow_ ," Anna giggled. "She must _really_ like you. I mean, to NOT sic a snow monster on your sorry patoot."

"Well, she _did_ threaten to have me executed."

"Did you deserve it?"

Jack shrugged, grinning sheepishly. Still feeling Anna's intent gaze on his face, he snuck another glance down towards the door.

Towards Elsa.

When they were under the bed, _she'd_ hugged _him_. That was good. Right? At least, he _thought_ it was. Taking her up on what he _thought_ was an invitation, fifteen minutes later, he then tried to hold her hand, but _then_ she'd completely freaked out. So… rejection? Bad. But another minute later, she'd started to move out _her_ hand towards _his_. Good. Aaaaaand she'd pulled it back. Bad. He moved his chair towards hers, and she'd scooted hers towards his _._ Positive response, right?

Good. Bad. Yes. No. Invitation. Withdrawal. _Dang_ , women were confusing. Was Elsa _encouraging_ him, or _rejecting_ him? Uh… maybe _both?_

Geez. Talk about mixed messages.

" _What is TAKING them so long?"_ Anna demanded suddenly.

Jack snapped back into focus again.

He took a step back, nervously spinning the staff. "I just kind of want to know what he's telling her," he admitted sheepishly.

Anna gave him another sympathetic half-smile. It was probably meant to be comforting, Jack thought, but it came off as more of a grimace.

"Yeah… as I said, Kristoff can be a bit overprotective," she offered. "He's really a family man."

"Not a bad thing."

"I don't think so, either. _I_ think it's wonderful," she said. "If you ever hurt Elsa, he would kill you. Honestly, though, I don't know why he feels he would need to."

"Yeah, I—"

"—Because _I_ would."

Jack froze.

"Um— _thank_ you, Anna," he choked. "I feel _much_ better now."

"Oh, good! I'm glad!"

Jack grinned in spite of himself. As Anna wheeled around, nearly falling over from the uneven distribution of her weight, he gasped and instinctively lunged forward to catch her. However, Elsa's sister quickly re-stabilized herself, lurching off in the direction of the door again. Restraining from a laugh, Jack silently stepped away from her again. Oh, Anna.

Down the hall, the door was opening.

Jack jolted, leaping up a few inches into the air. Then, gathering his senses, he forced himself to float back onto the ground, leaning up against the wall and crossing his left ankle over his right. His heart pounding, he blinked hard, struggling to keep his breathing even.

 _ACT CASUAL!_


	38. Impossible

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **1\. I'm working on the List Of References, and—yeah, this is going to take a while. I didn't realize how MANY times I've referenced the movies and/or actual history! (Example: Back in "Crazy or Evil," Jack makes a comment, "Dialogue, though? Dialogue with _whom?_ Don't tell me he pulled a Galileo." This was a reference to "Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems," a highly controversial piece published by Galileo Galilei in 1632. Look it up!) :)**

 **2\. THANK YOU to all of the lovely, wonderful people that have been giving me such sweet reviews! Seriously, you keep me writing. If people are actually enjoying this, I can justify working on it… as for those glorious reviews, I shall be printing them out, taping them together, and using them to re-wallpaper my apartment, just as soon as I can convince my spouse that it's a good idea.**

 **3\. I have an email! I can be contacted now at "IceAllianceAuthorPerson" at gmail. (Do _NOT_ try sending stuff to NopeNotTelling; somebody else already took that email!) Love you all, and have a fantabulous day!**

 **.**

 **.**

 **38: IMPOSSIBLE**

Clutching the new vase in one hand, Elsa stepped out into the hall, whisking her capelet through the doorway as Kristoff held the door. Thanking him, she nervously spun around, looking down the corridor just in time to see her sister Anna suddenly trip, shrieking and lurching forward into Kristoff's arms.

 _"Are you okay?"_ Elsa gasped.

Kristoff grinned, shaking his head and helping his wife onto her feet again. After four months of being married to Anna, he was more than used to catching her as she tripped over carpets, rocks, and—more often than not—her own feet.

And Anna's pregnancy was _not_ helping.

" _Finally!_ You're done!" Anna giggled, brushing herself off. "Stinkers! What took you so long?"

"We were just talking," Kristoff shrugged.

Biting her lip, Elsa snuck a glance over her sister's shoulder. At the end of the hall, Jack Frost was leaning carelessly against the doorframe of the private dining room, apparently not yet noticing that she was in the hallway. He absent-mindedly pulled a snowflake from the air, spiky and elegant, twirling it on the tip of his finger. As he closed his hand, it abruptly burst apart, floating away on the air in a long line of delicate, shimmering frost. That handsome little hint of a smile reappeared on his lips, and Elsa felt her heart swell.

All of a sudden, from the end of the corridor, Jack looked up.

Elsa jolted, nearly dropping the vase, and turned away. She closed her eyes, silently begging her heart to stop pounding, and scarcely a second later, a tiny, cold little gust of wind caught the edge of her capelet, billowing it out to the side.

An icy hand brushed against her arm.

"Hey," Jack said softly.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat. She could feel from the chill in the air that he was standing very close to her again, his face hardly more than six inches from her own. Clutching the vase, she turned around to face him.

"Hi?" Elsa squeaked.

Jack smiled, his face flushing slightly. Elsa's heart skipped a beat, and then—as she hesitantly looked up into his eyes—a wave of calm.

Feeling the confusing warmth rushing through her, Elsa pulled in a long, shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly as he took a step towards her. There was the _fun magic_ thing, but—well, she hadn't SEEN him do that. And, this warmth didn't _feel_ like the magic…

How very strange.

"That's beautiful," Jack commented suddenly.

Elsa abruptly sucked in her breath, eyes wide.

Jack let out a nervous laugh, running his fingers through his hair and then pointing to the vase. "That," he corrected quickly. "That—that's beautiful. Did you just make it?"

"Oh!" Elsa blushed, "Um—I—yes."

He raised his eyebrows slightly, leaning onto his staff and gesturing for the vase. Elsa handed it to him, and he let the staff fall back onto his shoulder, inspecting the ice. After a few moments, his eyes fell onto the vase's jagged crack. A look of confusion sweeping over his features, he gently reached out, tracing his finger over it.

"It—the vase—it looks like it's made of two pieces, not one," Jack said. "Were they broken, or something?"

Elsa opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out. Trying again, she pulled in a deep breath.

"Not anymore," she said shyly.

Jack grinned at the statement, peering up at her through his eyelashes. Elsa's heart leapt again.

Oh _, wow_.

He gently tossed vase to himself, then looking back to her, his beautiful, snowflake-marked eyes staring deep into her own. "I guess that shouldn't surprise me. You're good at fixing things," Jack said casually.

"You—um, you are, too," Elsa stammered.

Not yet giving her back the vase, his staff leaning onto his shoulder, Jack silently reached forward and took Elsa's hand. As he ran his thumb over her skin, she felt more blood rushing to her face, and nervously glanced back to Anna and Kristoff.

Of course, they were both watching intently, smirking with raised eyebrows. After a few more uncomfortable moments, Kristoff laughed, shaking his head and looking to Jack.

"If you think _that's_ good," he chuckled, "You should see the prototype crib she built for me. It's in our room."

Jack startled slightly, realizing he was being watched. After a few moments, hiding it, he let out a nervous laugh, looking back to Elsa.

"You made a prototype for a crib… out of _ice?"_ Jack asked.

Elsa bit her lip. "Well… yes," she admitted, silently begging him to _not_ make the obvious joke in front of Anna and Kristoff. "Why?"

"Ah, no reason," he shrugged, his eyes sliding in Kristoff's direction as he reluctantly let go of Elsa's hand, returning her vase. "It's just kinda funny. North does exactly the same thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah! What do you think he _does_ in his office—sit around and eat fruitcake all day?" A mischievous grin tugged at the edge of Jack's mouth, and he then leaned close into Elsa's ear as they began to walk after Anna and Kristoff down the hallway. "I mean—he might _look_ like it, but…"

Elsa laughed, putting her hand over her mouth. She then smiled nervously, shaking her head and pulling in her breath. "So he makes prototypes of the toys out of ice?"

"Right. Then, each yeti gets a model to work off of. In the workshop, I mean," he added.

Elsa paused. " _Wait_ ," she blurted, her eyes widening, "Then Santa Clau—um, North—does he—?"

Her voice trailed off, and Elsa bit her lip, opening her hand and letting a few snowflakes dance above her palm. Realizing what she was asking, Jack shook his head, drumming his fingers on the staff.

"Nope. No ice powers. North uses a hammer and chisel," he explained.

"But the ice—"

"—North Pole, remember?"

"Oooh!" Elsa exclaimed. "Unlimited ice, right?"

"Right." Jack adjusted his grip on the staff, sticking his hand into his pocket. "It could have been North _or_ South, really, but—well, the North was good for the yetis. The South was more penguin territory. His helpers sort of needed to have opposable thumbs."

Elsa raised her eyebrows, shifting the vase into her other hand. "So, what happens with the _South_ Pole, then?"

"Oh, North said I could have that one."

They both laughed. Jack nudged her, grinning.

"Want me to take you?" he whispered. " _Think_ of it, Elsa! We could claim the South Pole for Arendelle!"

"Mmm, not really into colonization—"

"—But _Elsa,"_ Jack prodded, "Come on. _Penguins."_

"And what economic justification would we have for maintaining the South Pole for Arendelle?"

Jack blinked.

"But _penguins,"_ he breathed.

She giggled again, shaking her head. "So, here's a question for you," she started again. "The North Pole—geographic, or magnetic?"

His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Wow. I mean—uh—very good," Jack stammered. "Most people don't really think that one through. It's the magnetic one. Oh, and you know something else about the workshop, that most people don't?"

"What's that?"

"It's built into an old _telescope dome."_

" _What?_ No castle?"

Jack smiled, shrugging. He then shook his head, leaping forward a pace and walking very close at Elsa's side again. "I think that North said some crazy old guy in the middle ages thought it'd be a good idea to set up shop at the North Pole."

"Did he survive?"

"Um… no."

"Oh…"

"Yeah, so a half-century later, North set up shop. Regarding the prototypes, though… I prefer the way that _you_ do ice," Jack said softly, gesturing to the vase. "North's stuff is pretty impressive. But no—no ice powers."

Glancing again to Anna and Kristoff, who were now deeply involved in their own conversation as they walked down the hall, Jack then leaned close in to Elsa again, peering up through his eyelashes. Her breath caught as he reached his hand up to her face, then gently drawing the back of his fingers across her cheek.

"I—I'm pretty sure it's still just you and me, Snowflake," Jack said softly.

They stared into each other's eyes for a long, silent moment.

"Ooooooh, _Blizzard Bunnies…"_

Jack's face flushed, and he looked down, shaking his head. "SERIOUSLY, Kristoff?!" he sputtered, laughing and whirling around to face him. "Comparing me to Bunny? _Again?"_

Elsa felt heat rushing to her cheeks, gripping the vase. Kristoff let out a sharp bark of laughter himself. "You and the Easter Bunny do _not_ get along… do you?"

"Well… we _did…_ for about seventy-two hours," Jack muttered, "And then I… well, let's just say our relationship is a bit strained."

Anna giggled, and Kristoff shrugged. "Alrighty then, _Snowmeo,"_ he teased. "But Anna's going to have to steal _Juliet_ away from you for a little while."

"Wha—"

"—She has a _previous engagement,_ " Anna proclaimed, lurching forward as Kristoff jumped to catch her, "With some chocolates and me."

She beamed as Kristoff helped her right herself. Jack's face fell, and Elsa then suddenly realized that they were standing at the top of the stairs.

Kristoff raised his eyebrows.

"You've got _one_ minute, Frost," he said quietly. "Okay? And don't worry. The tasting shouldn't take _that_ long."

Jack nodded, biting his lip. Kristoff turned away, just in time to catch Anna as she tripped, plummeting face-forward down the stairs. Helping her back up, he then put his arm around her, trying to convince her get down one stair at a time as she protested.

Elsa looked back to Jack, her heart in her throat.

"So—um," she choked, "I guess—I guess this is it. For a little while."

"Yeah."

Jack forced a weak smile. After a few moments, Elsa drew in a quick breath, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry there isn't room for another person," she stammered quickly, it's just—Anna and I are—"

"—Snowflake, don't _worry_ about me," Jack chuckled. " _Go._ Be with your sister. Uh—eat stuff?"

To this, Elsa giggled in spite of herself. She looked down to the vase, readjusting her grip on it.

"And besides," Jack whispered, suddenly an inch from her face and making Elsa jump again, "I have some—independent research to do."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come now. Remember the whole _Alliance_ thing we have going?"

He winked, taking a step back and leaning onto his staff. Elsa's heart jumped.

"The Council," she breathed.

He nodded. "Yeah, we're shaking things up a bit." Jack then shrugged. "But I kind of need to know who we're dealing with, first."

"Makes sense." Elsa shifted on her feet. "There's a list of their names and everything in—"

"—Psh! Where's the fun in _that?"_ he chuckled. "I'll figure it out."

 _I'm sure you will,_ she thought.

A squeal of delight suddenly echoed from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs, and Jack and Elsa jolted, spinning around. Anna had finally made it down to the next floor. Aaaaand was celebrating.

"I—um," Elsa stammered, taking a step back, "I—I—better go. I have to—I better go."

As she whirled around to the stairs, blushing furiously, Jack caught her wrist.

 _"Elsa—!"_

Elsa's breath caught, and she slowly turned back around to him. He blushed, letting out a nervous laugh, and then opened his mouth to say something. Closing it, he pulled in a tiny breath, and tried again.

"We—um," Jack stammered, "Can I—can I meet you again after?"

Elsa's eyes widened as Jack slid his hand down onto hers, gazing pleadingly into her eyes. Her heart fluttered.

Oooooh, those eyes.

"I—yeah. Sure," she choked. "That—that would be wonderful."

Jack smiled sheepishly, looking down and playing with her fingers. After a brief moment of hesitation, he brought Elsa's hand to his lips.

"My queen," Jack said softly.

Elsa blushed, her mouth falling slightly open in shock as Jack bowed and kissed her hand, looking up to her through his eyelashes again. His cheeks flushing, he then let it go, straightening up and turning back to the hallway.

Stumbling back a step, her head spinning, Elsa looked nervously to the vase. _All his broken, jagged edges,_ she heard her own voice starting to say in her mind. _And if… maybe if he ISN'T just after Arendelle…_

 _STUPID girl!_ she thought suddenly, shaking her head. _He's an impossible wish for you, Elsa. Impossible._

As Jack leapt into the air, flying away down the hall, a few last, shimmering snowflakes materialized behind him from where he had taken off. They fell softly towards the ground, and Elsa felt her heart swell, watching the beautiful, white-haired Spirit of Winter as he disappeared around the corner.

But the feeling couldn't last. Scarcely a moment after, a sharp pang of pain hit her in the chest, her throat tightening with the heartbreaking realization. Jack Frost…. love _her?_

Impossible.


	39. Chocolate and Analysis

**AUTHOR'S NOTE ( _original, Christmas 2015):_**

 **First of all, like usual, I can't thank you enough for the reviews. In a desperate attempt to come up with a new way to say this: HOORAAAAAAAAAAY, REVIEWS! REVIEWS ARE GREAT! YOU ARE GREAT! I LOVE YOU ALL! I SHALL BLOW THE BLOWHORN OF HAPPINNESS WHILE FLINGING GLITTER INTO THE AIR WITH EXHUBERANT JOY! (BY THE WAY: The normal reviews are down, but GUEST REVIEWS ARE STILL SHOWING UP. Please, still review, even though the website is having issues!)**

 **Secondly, allow me to reassure you all that I'm churning this out as fast as I can. When I actually add up everything I haven't published yet, it comes out to about an additional 20,000 words, but here's the thing: _it's all just bits and pieces_. When I started I.A., I was intentionally NOT allowing myself to know what would happen next, because I was trying to keep myself excited to write more. Yeah, that didn't last very long. (You might have noticed a serious change of pace starting around chapter 12.) So, now, I know where I'm going, and I'm stringing together all the bits and pieces to get there. I usually try to update once a week, but as of tomorrow, I'm back into the semester and the lab, which is another way of saying that I will have no life. It might be more like once every two weeks, but I'll try!**

 **Lastly, HAPPY 100,000 WORDS! Thanks for being here and helping me in my desperate efforts to justify my secret hobby! And now I stop talking, and get back to the story. ;)**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE ( _added after Drafting Hiatus, June 2017):_ Oh, how quaint I was. Back when we only reached 100,000 words in THIS chapter. Clearly, I hadn't drafted yet. XD Dear Past Self, prepare to spend four months reconfiguring the First Meeting Scene. **

**CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo, brief reference to sex after marriage (Basically, that it exists). Like usual, nothing graphic or obscene at all, but these are adults, people. Rated t, proceed with caution.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **39: CHOCOLATE AND ANALYSIS**

"Nothing. I swear, there was _nothing,_ Anna!" Elsa exclaimed. "I went through three _years_ worth of records, and—well, I have a _lot_ more research to do, but— _nothing_ citing _any_ child abuse laws! It's an _outrage!_ And I don't believe for one moment that it's because there's no child abuse happening. It's just all being swept under the table."

Anna, taking a bite of the raspberry chocolate cake, pondered this. She looked to her sister. " _Unbelievable!"_

"I know, right?" Elsa bit her lip. "I couldn't fathom it."

"No. I'm _totally_ willing to believe the thing about the legal system being messed up. I mean, it's horrible, but I can see how it would happen," Anna shrugged. "What I _can't_ believe is that your idea of a fabulous day with the Spirit of Winter is to drag him to the library to research child abuse laws."

Elsa felt blood rushing to her face.

" _Anna,"_ she choked, "Just because he's the Spirit of Winter—"

"—And _gorgeous—"_

"— _It doesn't mean_ that I get to stop being the Queen," Elsa finished, determinately staring down at her plate. "I have responsibilities."

Rolling her eyes, Anna giggled, and leaned forward onto her elbow. "I just figured, you know, that you'd at least have a snowball fight, or something."

"We _did_ have a snowball fight!"

A look of confusion swept over Anna's face. "I thought you said you went to the library," she said slowly.

A few awkward moments passed in silence. Elsa shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"We cleaned it up," she offered.

"You had a snowball fight… _in the library?"_ Anna gasped.

Elsa determinately stared back down at her piece of cake, poking at it with her fork. Feeling Anna's wide-eyed gaze on her face, she blushed as her sister leaned over to her in her chair.

"Well," Anna giggled, "I guess _that_ lends itself to the obvious next question."

"Anna, we're just friends."

"I was going to ask who won."

"Oh."

The door into the food preparation area swung open, and a tall maid wearing an apron bustled into the room, holding a silver tray with two more tiny plates on it. Coming over to Anna and Elsa, she set it down, gesturing to the raspberry cake plates and raising her eyebrows slightly. Elsa smiled, thanking her as she replaced it with the new plate.

"The cake is lovely," Elsa said. "I think we ought to certainly have at least two of that flavor."

"Would you prefer it baked into layered circles, or in sheets, your majesty?" she asked, quickly pulling out a tiny notebook and writing down Elsa's words.

"Layered circles would be wonderful."

Anna frantically scooped up the last bite of the raspberry chocolate cake sample and popped it into her mouth, grinning triumphantly and sitting back as the maid took her now-empty plate, replacing it with a new one.

"The chef's specialty _lemon sugar bar,_ with lemon curd imported from far south," the maid announced.

Elsa and Anna _oohed_ and _ahhed_ appropriately, Anna struggling to finished chewing and swallowing the last of the previous sample. As the maid left through the door again, Elsa turned to her sister, giggling at her chipmunk cheeks.

"You're not really supposed to eat _all_ of it," Elsa laughed. "I mean— _Anna—_ this is a _tasting,_ not a _consuming."_

"Buh ith _chocate."_

"Hmm?"

Anna swallowed, sheepishly looking to Elsa again.

"But it's _chocolate,"_ she insisted.

Elsa smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow. "That doesn't mean you have to stuff in all in your face as quickly as possible."

"I'll stuff it in my face if I want to."

They both burst out laughing, Elsa shaking her head as they turned to the lemon bars in front of them.

She had hardly picked up her fork before Anna suddenly turned to her, half of her lemon bar already gone.

"Ya know wha ith needth?" Anna blurted. " _Chocate."_

"Anna, we can't have chocolate in _every_ dessert," Elsa chuckled.

Anna finished the bite, swallowing it as well. " _What?_ Why not?"

Elsa raised an eyebrow, daintily cutting off a piece of the lemon bar with her fork. "Well," she said patiently, " _Some_ people are allergic to it, for one thing."

Anna gasped, her face going pale as Elsa took a bite of the lemon bar. After a few moments, Anna looked to her sister, her enormous blue eyes wide in horrified disbelief.

"Those poor, _lifeless_ souls," Anna breathed.

Elsa choked.

Struggling to regain her composure as she swallowed the lemon bar more carefully, Elsa bit her lip, subtlety wiping off her mouth on her pristine lilac napkin.

" _Oooh_ , Anna," she laughed, shaking her head, "What am I going to _do_ with you?"

"First of all, dear sister," Anna retorted, _"You_ are going to explain why I _wasn't_ invited to see that."

"See what?"

"The Spirit of Winter versus the Snow Queen of Arendelle… and in the _library?"_ Anna breathed.

Elsa shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, as she turned back to the lemon bar and picked up her knife. "Well, it wasn't exactly _planned_ —"

"—Who cares? It was probably the snowball fight of the _century._ And you still haven't told me who won."

Elsa laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. Then, a pensive expression crept over her features, and she contemplated the question.

"I—I'm not actually sure," Elsa admitted quietly. "To be completely honest, I thought I was trying to go easy on Jack, but Kristoff thinks he was going easy on me. And, Jack _did_ eventually catch me, but—well, I got his staff away from him. _Twice."_

A hint of a grin tugged at the edge of Anna's mouth. "So… it was a tie?"

"Why… yes," Elsa realized, looking up. "I… I suppose it was."

A few moments passed in silence.

Anna burst out laughing again, nearly falling off her seat with the giggles as Elsa blushed furiously, shaking her head and looking back to the lemon bar.

"I am— _so_ proud of you!" Anna gasped. " _My_ sister! And against _Jack Frost!_ "

Elsa shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "It was fun."

"So—his staff," Anna started again, her eyes wide with curiosity, "Is—is that, like, the source of his powers?"

"Oh, no. Jack's powers are his own," Elsa countered. "They're just—harder to control without it, I think. But, without the staff, he can't fly."

"Oh. _That_ makes sense."

The sisters went quiet, a calm falling over the table.

Anna silently placed her fork next to her plate, her eyes sliding in Elsa's direction. Finally, she cleared her throat.

"Soooo…"

Anna raised her eyebrows, grinning. A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face.

"Um… so…?" Elsa said slowly.

To this, Anna giggled again.

"So… _Jack Frost_ ," Anna whispered, leaning in to her sister. "If you had a crush on him on that _first_ day, I can't _imagine_ what you'd call it now. Not to mention, how I _found_ you two, all snuggled up under the—"

"—We were _NOT—!"_

 _"—Spill,"_ Anna chuckled.

Her eyes were wide and expectant again, and Elsa felt heat rising to her face. Her throat tight with embarrassment, she pulled in a long breath.

" _Anna,"_ she choked, "I did _not_ have a crush on him. I just thought he was—"

Her voice trailed off as she searched for a word.

"Um— _charming_ ," Elsa decided.

Anna raised a single eyebrow, a tiny smirk pulling at the edge of her mouth. Elsa felt herself blushing harder.

 _"What?"_ Elsa demanded. "What's so funny?"

" _Charming?"_

"He _is!"_

Anna smiled mischievously, cutting off another chunk of lemon bar as she muttered under her breath. " _And gorgeous and amazing and adorable and—"_

"—I did _not_ say _any_ of that, and you know it!"

"Your _face_ did."

Elsa smiled in spite of herself, letting out a breathy laugh and rolling her eyes. "Alright. I think that Jack is— _attractive_ ," she admitted. "But Anna… we're _friends._ I promise, it's _just a friendship."_

Anna studied her sister's face for a few moments. She then gently placed her elbow on the edge of the table, resting her chin on her fist.

"Okaaaaaaaay," Anna started carefully. "So, tell me about this— _friendship._ Like, what do you know about him? Because, I don't know much of anything, except that he's gorgeous, has ice powers, and is desperately in love with you."

"He is _not_ in love with me."

"Yes, he is."

Elsa opened her mouth to protest, but before she could do so, the door to the food preparation area swung open again, the maid with the silver tray bustling back over to Anna and Elsa.

"How did your majesties like the lemon bar?" she inquired.

"It was absolutely lovely, thank you," Elsa smiled. "Compliments to the chef! We should _certainly_ have a fair amount of those at the ball."

"How many would you like?"

"I believe three hundred should do it."

The plates were once again taken, and replaced with new ones. Anna and Elsa found themselves looking down at two thinly-cut, golden-brown slices of cake. The maid drew herself up again, smiling.

"A classic," she announced. "This is the chef's vanilla chocolate cake, with a salted caramel drizzle."

"Our father's favorite," Elsa commented. "Thank you again."

The maid curtsied and left the room. As soon as the door shut behind the maid, Anna spun around to her sister again.

"Like, you've been spending alllllll of your time with him," Anna prodded, picking up her fork. "What have you been up to?"

"Just the usual affairs of the kingdom."

She raised her eyebrows. "I don't believe that for a _second,_ and you know it."

" _Anna—"_

 _"Details!"_ Anna giggled. "I. Want. _Details._ Like, today. Start with when you _first saw him,_ today."

Elsa bit her lip, looking to the cake. Anna was _not_ letting this go.

With a long breath, Elsa closed her eyes in defeat and drew herself up.

"Well," she started, "I suppose that this morning, right after I got up, he—well, never mind what happened," Elsa added quickly, deciding against telling Anna. "But Jack seemed really—nervous. And embarrassed. But then he said I was pretty—so, that was good, right? But then he ran away! So, maybe he didn't mean it, or shouldn't have said it? It didn't _look_ like he regretted it, but he clearly felt bad about walking in, and I apologized for it—you know, having ice-blasted him and everything—but then he said it was fantastic, which doesn't make sense to me. _Fantastic?_ I mean, I _think_ that's what he said. Anyway, and then asked if he could kiss me again, and—"

"—YOU'VE _KISSED?!"_ Anna exclaimed.

"Yes! Pay attention!" Elsa stammered, "And I—I was emotionally compromised, alright? So, then I told him that I thought we were going too fast, and I thought he'd be relieved, but instead, he said that—actually, I'm not repeating what he said. So anyway, I slapped him, and he said he deserved it, and then he was acting all flirty and nice again, and after that then he got kind of quiet, and—okay. So, then we went to the library, and we did research for a while, but then he got frustrated—he said the people were idiots. But I think he was just bored—oh, I don't know. Why would he come with me, if he didn't like research? It doesn't make sense, quite frankly. But Jack is _extremely_ smart—is this making sense?"

Anna's mouth was hanging slightly open in shock, her face blank with confusion. Her eyes widening slightly, she slowly pulled in her breath.

"Maaaaaaybe we should skip over this part," Anna choked.

Elsa blushed, swallowing hard. Giving her head a little shake, she then fidgeted with her fork, starting again.

"So, then we had our snowball fight—he said that we had a deal, and he wasn't letting me back out of it, and I thought he might be mad, but he was just kind of laughing! And then, when he finally caught me, he—well, he sort of fell on top of me, and—well, it was _weird,_ Anna! I mean, he got off the moment I asked him to, but his expression—it was like he didn't _want_ to, or something. It doesn't make any sense. I mean, at first he was _laughing_ and everything, and joking around, but then he got all— _quiet._ That's—it's—maybe I did something _wrong,_ or he was angry, or—!"

Elsa's voice trailed off, and she blushed furiously, shaking her head. Biting her lip, she then looked back to the cake, poking at it with her fork.

Anna was silent. After a few moments, she pulled in a long breath again.

"Maybe we should skip over this part, too," Anna said glassily.

"I—I'm sorry," Elsa choked, struggling to keep her voice even. "I just—I've never done this before. I had no idea that friendship was so— _complicated."_

Anna, her mouth hanging slightly open in shock, raised her eyebrows.

" _I_ had no idea that friendship was so complicated," Anna breathed.

Anna shifted in her chair, looking back to her sister.

"Elsa," Anna started quietly, "You _might_ be over-analyzing this. A bit."

Elsa bit her lip. "How do you mean?"

" _Stop. Analyzing,"_ Anna laughed under her breath. "Just tell me how you feel."

Elsa said nothing, determinately poking at the cake. After a few moments, she put her fork down, leaning forward and burying her face in her hands.

"I feel like analyzing," Elsa whimpered miserably.

 **.**

 **.**

Twenty minutes later, Elsa was still struggling to come to terms with her feelings—as _feelings_.

"And I think—well, honestly, Anna, he keeps— _flirting_ at me," Elsa laughed nervously. "I' mean, I think he is. I don't really know. I—I don't have any clue what to do about it. I mean, I don't _mind_ it, or anything, but—"

"—Do you _like_ it when he flirts with you?" Anna asked patiently.

"Well," Elsa stammered, "I—I suppose I do—but—"

"—So, flirt _back,"_ Anna giggled.

"I—"

Elsa abruptly cut herself off, looking back to the slice of pie on her plate. Shaking her head, she sheepishly picked up her knife and fork, starting to cut into the pie while avoiding her sister's eye contact.

Elsa heard her sister draw in her breath.

"You… don't. Know. _How?"_ Anna gasped.

Blushing furiously, Elsa felt her eyes start stinging. Her knife suddenly cut through the piecrust, hitting the plate with a sharp _clank,_ but instead of picking up the chunk and eating it, she frantically moved her fork over and started sawing away at another piece. _"It's not exactly something I've ever studied, okay?"_ Elsa stammered desperately, "I know economics and p-politics and history and—"

"—You _don't know how_ to _FLIRT?!"_

" _I'm ruling a kingdom!_ _Of COURSE_ I don't know how!" Elsa protested, " _Anna!_ Come _on! Flirting?_ For a _Queen?_ I don't have time for that kind of nonsense! And besides, where would I have _learned,_ anyway? It's not like they publish books on this!"

"Actually, about that—"

"—Frankly, Anna, if _you_ want to go back to the Italian Renaissance and tell Machiavelli that he needs to add another chapter, then _be my guest,"_ Elsa sputtered, "But _seriously!_ Most people do _not_ consider flirting to be a necessary skill for _ruling a kingdom!"_

"Machia- _who_ , now?"

"Never mind."

Elsa shook her head slightly and took a bite of the pie, hardly tasting it. After a few moments, she felt Anna's hand gently resting on her shoulder.

"Elsa—"

"—I _really_ don't want to talk about this anymore."

Elsa reluctantly looked up, meeting her sister's gaze. Anna's eyes were soft with concern.

"Elsa," she said quietly, "I just want to help. Okay?"

"Help _how?_ I belong alone."

"That isn't true, and you know it."

Elsa stared determinately at the plate, avoiding Anna's gaze again. After a few moments, she head Anna draw in her breath.

"So, where are we starting?" Anna asked. "What _do_ you know about flirting?"

"Wait, I'm your project now?"

" _Elsaaaaaaa_ … _?"_

After a few more long, painful seconds, Elsa sighed in defeat. She turned to her sister, dropping her voice to a whisper.

"Okay, Anna," she started, "Take everything, _everything,_ that you know about friendship, and love, and flirting, and—people. Alright?"

"Okay…"

"Now… um… now assume I don't know _any_ of that," Elsa choked. "That's where I am. I know you mean well, but—I'm begging you. _Leave me be_. Now, can we _please_ not talk about it anymore?"

"Elsa, why are you shutting me out all of a sudden?" Anna whispered, "I just—this defensiveness! Why—"

"— _Because it's completely illogical!"_ Elsa stammered, pulling in a breath, "And I can't afford to get involved, okay? Jack's an impossible dream for me, and all this— _talking_ —and everything will only make everything worse! I can't _afford_ to have hope with—"

Elsa abruptly cut herself off.

A cold silence fell over the table, and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Anna took a bite of the pie, waiting for her sister to continue, but Elsa, biting her lip, was quiet.

Suddenly, Anna's eyes widened.

" _Elsa_ ," she breathed, "Are—are you trying to tell me that you're _heartbroken_ over Jack Frost— _in advance?"_

Elsa opened her mouth to say something, but then blushed, closing it again. Her eyes stinging, she sucked in her breath, determinately cutting off more pieces of the pie.

"It will save time," she choked.

" _Are you serious?"_

The door swung open, and the tall maid stepped into the room with the tray again. Looking up and seeing Queen Elsa's expression, her face went pale, and she spun around on her heel, silently pushing the door back open into the food preparation area.

The door swung shut again.

 _"What's the point of delaying the inevitable?"_ Elsa stammered quickly, fighting back tears of embarrassment. "There is no way, _ever_ , that someone like _him_ would be interested in someone like _me!_ It wouldn't make sense! Alright?"

"Why not?"

 _"HmmLemmeThinkAboutThatForAMomentBecauseHe's JAAAAAAAAACK FRAAAAAAHST?!"_ Elsa sputtered. "I mean—come on. _Jack Frost._ The _Spirit of Winter?_ You really think that _I_ could even—? Not a chance, Anna."

Anna raised her eyebrows. "You think you have no chance because he's the Spirit of Winter?"

"Well—of course!"

Her sister grinned wryly, leaning into Elsa's face.

"And you're _the Snow Queen,"_ Anna enunciated. "If there is a single female in this entire world that has a shot at Jack Frost, I'm pretty sure it's you. And I'm pretty sure that _he's_ pretty sure of that, too."

"But it doesn't make—"

"—And do _not_ say that it doesn't make sense," Anna interrupted. "It makes _perfect_ sense. It makes more sense than anything I've ever seen, and you need to get OVER yourself, and marry Jack Frost and live in an ice castle and have lots and _lots and LOTS_ of snowy little babies and LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER, OKAY?"

" _Who said ANYTHING about BABIES!?"_

"Oh, like it hasn't occurred to you!"

Elsa's mouth fell open in shock. Gathering her senses, she shook her head.

" _We've known each other for THREE DAYS!"_ Elsa sputtered.

"And I've never seen you blush so much in my life!"

Elsa bit her lip.

"Well," she admitted, mumbling under her breath as she poked at the cake sample in front of her, "He _did_ bring up the _same species_ thing."

"Same _species?"_ Anna asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um—yeah," Elsa shrugged. "He doesn't really think of himself as being completely—human—and I asked him if he considered _me_ to be a human, and he said that he thought—well, he'd call me a—"

Her voice trailed off, and Elsa gave her head a tiny shake. Well—um. Never _mind._ Actually...

 _"Elsaaaa?"_ Anna prodded, raising an eyebrow, "What did Jack call you?"

"You don't want to know."

"You're right. I _need_ to know. _Spill."_

Elsa gulped, putting down her fork and pulling her hands into her lap. After a few moments of determinately staring into her lap, she held her breath, hesitantly looking towards her sister.

" _Sexy Ice Powers Humanoid Thing?_ " Elsa squeaked.

Anna's eyes bulged.

" _Sexy Ice Powers Humanoid Thing?"_ she sputtered.

"Anna—I'm _sure_ that Jack didn't—"

"—Ooooh, right, he _clearly_ only wants to be friends. Seeing as he pulled the _same species_ card!" Anna giggled, shaking her head. She then suddenly paused, the strange light of an epiphany creeping over her features.

"I didn't even know that _was_ a card," Anna realized.

"Anna, what on _earth_ are you talking about?"

" _Oh,_ come _on,"_ Anna retorted, rolling her eyes. "Same _species?_ You know _exactly_ what that comment implies _."_

"Of course I do!"

"Oh, really?"

Elsa drew herself up, looking as regal as she could muster. "It means we're the only two people we know with ice powers, and that we should be FRIENDS!"

" _Beeeeeeeeep! WRONG!"_

" _What?_ " Elsa scoffed, her throat tightening with embarrassment again. "Then, what do _you_ think he meant?"

Anna rolled her eyes, placing her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her fists. "Let's do a little math, shall we?" she giggled. "I know that you were always good with math."

"Anna, it this were anywhere _near_ as simple as _math—"_

"—We can argue about that statement later. Now, let's think," Anna continued patiently, "When a species is about to die out… what do you want?"

Elsa's eyes narrowed slightly, looking to her sister with distrust.

"Um," she said carefully, "For that to—not—happen?"

 _"_ Good! _Right!"_ Anna exclaimed. "So, how do you have that— _not—_ happen?"

"Well, you need more."

"Right again!"

Elsa groaned, placing her own elbow on the table and kneading her eyebrows. "Anna, I don't see how—"

"—Just stay with me here," she said quickly. "And you need— _what—_ to make more?"

A silence fell over the table.

After a few moments, Elsa suddenly gasped, her formerly blank expression of confusion going to horror.

"I'm _sure_ he didn't mean it like that!" she sputtered.

"I'm sure he _did_ mean it like that—"

"— _Anna!"_

Anna shook her head, giggling good-naturedly and picking up her fork again. Elsa blinked hard, exhaling. Pressing her hands together, she then slowly pulled in her breath again.

"He. Did _not._ Mean it like that," she enunciated. "We're _friends._ I mean, he messes with me sometimes, but it's all a joke. I _know_ he can't feel that way. I would have _noticed_."

"Take it from the married girl," Anna chuckled, "There's a LOT you're not noticing."

"Like _what_?"

"Like the fact that the Spirit of Winter is following you around like a lost puppy?"

Elsa froze.

Anna, shifting in her seat, raised her eyebrows. Her expression grave, she then shook her head, leaning in to her sister and dropping her voice to a whisper.

"I saw how Jack was _looking_ at you at the table," she said softly. "He kept—sneaking glances at you, with this— _expression—_ on his face. It was like he had to keep checking, because he was scared you were going to disappear. Then, again, right before the tasting."

Elsa fell quiet. Avoiding Anna's gaze, she started blinking quickly as she stared into her lap, desperately fighting away the forming tears.

"That—that c-can't be true," Elsa choked. "You're—wrong."

"Elsa—"

"—You're _wrong, okay?"_ Elsa shook her head, frantically beginning to flick tears off of her cheeks. "Anna, it's— _me._ I can't _do_ love. He _can't_ be interested in me like that. Okay? Now, can we _please_ stop talking about it?"

The door swung open again as the maid tried to come in for the second time. Seeing Anna and Elsa's expressions, she abruptly whirled around, starting to go back, and Elsa abruptly stood up.

 _"STOP!"_

The maid froze. She then hesitantly turned back around, pulling in a deep breath as Elsa gulped.

"Um—everything is fine. We're ready for the next samples," Elsa said carefully as she sat back down. "You don't have to keep waiting."

"I—I'm sorry, your majesties," the maid stammered, "I thought that—"

"—You should not be the one apologizing," Elsa interrupted, "We were the ones in the wrong. Princess Anna and I are very lucky to be served by someone as patient and tactful as you."

The maid relaxed slightly, a little grin tugging at the edge of her mouth as she crossed the room to the table and put down the tray.

"Thank you, ma'am," she whispered. "I—um, may I take these plates?"

"Of course." Elsa drew herself up, mustering the best rendition of The Queen Face that she could. She tried to smile reassuringly. "And what delight has the cook thought up for us this time?"

"This is a chocolate éclair drizzled with fudge."

" _Ooo!"_ Anna squealed. " _Now_ we're talking!"

Elsa giggled, seeing her sister's enthusiasm. "But you haven't even _tried_ it yet—"

"—Don't have to." She beamed, raising her eyebrows and turning back to the maid. "We should _definitely_ have these. We _love_ them, and you should tell her so."

The maid's face flushed slightly, and broke into a nervous smile. "As you wish, your highness," she said, then quickly curtsying and pacing from the room.

As the door swung shut behind her, the sisters were silent again. Elsa could feel Anna's gaze on her face again, and she bit her lip, silently picking up her fork.

"Oh my word," Anna breathed. "You really _don't_ know anything about love—do you?"

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a long sigh.

" _Honestly_ ," she muttered, "Coming from someone who—"

"—I _didn't_ know anything about love. Romantic love, I mean," she countered. "I _learned,_ Elsa. My problem with Prince Jerkface of the Unnamed Isles was that I was so desperate for love that I was able to convince myself that _anything_ was it. _Your_ problem is that you're _afraid_ of love that you'll go to the ends of the world to convince yourself that no one could ever fall in love with you."

"Jack is _not_ in love with me."

"You wouldn't know love if it scooped you up, flew you into the mountains, built an ice castle with you, and convinced you to dance." She paused, putting a finger on her lips. "Oh. Wait…"

" _Anna,"_ Elsa groaned, "He's not in love. _I'm_ not in love. I mean—I can't. _Do._ Love. _Look_ at me," she choked. "Romance has never been, nor will _ever_ be, a realistic option for me, alright?"

"But Elsa—didn't you ever think you'd be getting married one day?" Anna asked. "I mean, you grew up knowing you'd be the Queen."

Elsa sighed. "Honestly? I didn't think I _would_ ever marry," she said quietly. "I always figured that—well, even if I _could_ get the ice powers under control—"

 _"—And you have—"_

"—You know what I mean," she continued, "I just—sharing a room with someone isn't exactly conducive to keeping something like that a secret. And, even if I _did_ get married, I knew it'd be a respectable, politically-savvy match. There would be nothing romantic about it."

"Nothing at all?"

"It's a simple political alliance. Or course not!"

Anna paused, staring down at her stomach. Drumming her fingers on it and measuring her words carefully, she then turned back to Elsa, who had resumed eating the éclair, pondering its flavor.

"Well… um," Anna said, dropping her voice to a whisper, "How about… you know… _after_ marriage?"

Elsa froze. Biting her lip, she then shook her head slightly, and leaned close into Anna's ear.

"Ah. Yes. _That,"_ Elsa choked. "You go to bed. You produce an heir. You keep ruling the confounded kingdom. There isn't _supposed_ to be any emotion attached to it," she added shakily. "It's for _Arendelle_."

Anna raised her eyebrows.

" _Wow_ ," she chuckled, crinkling her nose as Elsa blushed. "I never realized that you were such a romantic, Elsa."

"That's as romantic as I can afford to get. I'm the Queen, remember?"

Anna pondered this. Looking up, she smiled slyly, taking a drink.

"I give him… _one week_ ," she muttered.

Elsa abruptly slammed down her fork, whirling around. " _What_ _IS it_ with everybody assuming that Jack and I are having—"

 _"—One week,"_ Anna giggled, "To prove to _you_ that you are, _secretly,_ a _romantic!"_

Elsa opened her mouth to say something, and then abruptly shut it again, catching the phrase just before it tumbled off the tip of her tongue. She pulled in a breath, shifting in her chair.

"Ah," Elsa choked.

Feeling herself blushing furiously, she turned back to the éclair, poking at it with her fork again. A large, goofy grin was spreading across her sister's face.

" _Elsaaaaaaaa—?"_

"Never going to happen, Anna."

"Oooooh, that adorable little blush you've developed?" Anna teased, "I'd say it's happening already."

"It's not _like_ that!"

"I think it is _exactly_ like that, dear sister. I'll even give him a week and a _half,"_ Anna giggled. "That way, it includes the Ball, _and_ Christmas."

"Anna—"

"—That's _ten days_ ," Anna continued, "Starting tomorrow, to convince you that _you like romance_."

Elsa let out a breathy, bitter laugh. "And, if he doesn't?" she chuckled. "If he has zero interest in me, and at the end of the ten days, we're still _just friends,_ just like I've already _told_ you we are?"

"Then I'll lose the bet," Anna said slyly.

Elsa raised a single eyebrow, slowly turning around and looking into Anna's eyes. "What kind of a bet are we _talking,_ here?" she asked carefully. "Name your stakes."

"Alright," Anna giggled. After a moment, her finger on her lips, she grinned, pulling in a deep breath. "I will bet you—twenty _pounds_ of chocolate."

Elsa jolted.

"That is _so much_ chocolate!" she gasped, eyes bulging. "Anna—are you sure you want to—"

"—Are you scared?"

"No!"

"Lost _. Puppy,"_ Anna taunted. "Come on, Elsa. Do we have a deal?"

The door swung open again, the maid coming in with the last samples. As she came over to the table, beaming and setting down the tray, Elsa grasped Anna's hand, leaning in to her ear.

" _Deal_ ," Elsa whispered.

.

.

Jack was waiting outside the door.

As Elsa stepped out after her sister (who was delightfully oblivious to most royal procedures, which of course would dictate the opposite order), Jack hopped down off of his staff, snatching it up out of the air.

"Hey," he grinned, his face breaking into a smile. "How'd it go?"

"It was AMAZING," Anna squealed. "Although, honestly, I just wish there was more chocolate. You—uh," she paused, looking at Jack, "You _do_ like chocolate—don't you?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, I—"

"—THEN YOU WILL LOVE IT. The Ball is going to be _amazing!_ "

Elsa giggled in spite of herself, covering her mouth with her hand. Jack's face flushed slightly.

"Well, I—um," he admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, "Honestly, I didn't know if I was invited, or—"

"— _YOU'RE INVITED!"_ Elsa blurted suddenly.

Jack and Anna slowly turned to her, two sets of eyebrows slightly lifted in surprise. Elsa bit her lip, feeling heat rushing to her face.

"I mean—um," she stammered, struggling to keep her breathing even, "I—yes. Of course you're invited, Jack."

He shifted his fingers on the staff, letting out a nervous laugh, and then looking back up into Elsa's eyes. Her heart leapt.

"Uh—thanks," he said. "I'll be there."

They stared into each other's eyes for a long, silent moment.

Elsa jolted, snapping back into focus. She gave her head a little shake, shrugging.

"The food and everything is all set," she said quickly. "I'm just—I'm just worried because I have to dance. In front of everybody."

Jack took a step forward, grasping her hand. "It's okay," he whispered. "We'll practice."

He then interlaced his fingers with hers, smiling sheepishly as he looked up into her eyes. Over his shoulder, Elsa saw Anna pull her hands up next to her chin, mimicking puppy paws, and then batting her eyelashes.

 _Arf!_ Anna mouthed.


	40. The Queen's Puppy

**(LONG, DESPERATE) AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, everybody. First of all, thank you for everybody that reviewed! It means a LOT to me to get feedback, and to reassure myself that anybody's reading this. (It's been a really hard couple weeks. If you're still liking Ice Alliance, please let me know.)**

 **I also just wanted to throw out there… yes, I know this has gotten slow in the last few chapters. The challenge of fanfic, I've found, is that you have to feel out pace a little at a time; you don't get to go back and edit the whole thing all at once, like usual. I'm a revisionist—trust me, this is fun, but I know I have a lot of improving to do as a writer. Anyways, though, regarding the pacing—after I get through another few chapters, things will pick up again, and I can promise that there _won't be anything more this slow or detailed again_ (at least for a long while). Trust me, it's killing me, too—I'm not a romance writer; I write deep fantasy/adventure (I would have killed off a few characters and thrown everybody into mystery against the clock by now) and physics humor essays (I would have gotten you through a semester of undergraduate physics by this point). But here, it's Jelsa, and before I can really have romance, drama, or action, I need to establish THE RELAAAAAAATIONSHIP. **

**Ahem. So, thanks for being awesome and bearing with me, guys. There's also a separate little project for this that I'll tell you about at the end… have a fantastic day!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual reference, some sexual innuendo.**

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 **40: THE QUEEN'S PUPPY**

"And, I think there should be a slide _here,"_ Jack said.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Elsa laughed, shaking her head slightly as Jack grinned, flicking his hand over the scale-model ice castle's front wall. A long slide unfurled, reaching all the way down to the floor, and he shrugged.

"Slides are faster than stairs," he declared, "And they're easier to build. And, _way_ more fun."

"Remind me why we're designing this?"

"Because we can."

Elsa smiled, shyly fidgeting with her fingers and turning back to the five-foot tall ice castle. The rush of relief swept over Jack again, seeing her expression as she stretched out her arms, biting her lip in concentration. That smile.

Anything, for that smile.

After they had helped Anna back up to her room—she and Kristoff, between the ice business and the pregnancy, always turned in quite early—Jack and Elsa had gone back to the library, for another two or three hours of research before giving up for the evening. They had missed Olaf's nightly rounds (and realized it, unfortunately, long after the fact), and were now taking a break from the records. Jack had challenged Elsa, initially, to a design contest for the Most Epic Ice Fortress Ever, but it had swiftly morphed into a combined scale-model brainstorm of every childlike architectural fantasy that the two could dream up. And Elsa certainly _looked_ like she was having fun…

At first, when they were alone again in the library, she had been acting—well, _scared_. Again. Nervous, to say the least; even more so than he was. After an hour or so of studying, and noticing Elsa growing increasingly uncomfortable in her seat, he'd almost hit her with a little fun magic. Just as he was about to do so, however, she had suggested a break. At which point he'd suggested building the model. At which point her face had lit up, making his heart leap.

"What do you think about a stargazing balcony?" Elsa asked suddenly.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Wait, you're a stargazer?"

"I could be."

Jack grinned, taking a step back and gesturing for her to add the piece. She walked to the side of the model, looking thoughtful as she considered where to put it, and Jack glanced down, feeling the edge of her flowing capelet on top of his foot. She moved again, stepping up to the ice castle, and it shifted, shimmering in the lamplight as it billowed across his skin. She was turned away from him…

Jack silently crouched down, picking up the end of the capelet. The _fabric_ thing was both fascinating _and_ frustrating to him, but there was no question that the detail, swirling, spiking snowflakes, on Elsa's clothing was beautiful. Jack had been playing with ice for over three hundred years, and he'd honestly figured that he'd done everything with the stuff that _could_ be done with it.

Jack smiled, dropping the edge of the capelet back onto the floor and pushing himself up with his staff. The Snow Queen's clothes were made out of ice. It was _possible_ to _wear ice_. Now, _there_ was something that had never occurred to him, before he'd met her—ice that was hard, _and_ soft, at the _same time?_ It was fascinating, and it was incredible, and _best of all,_ Jack thought to himself smugly, it appeared that he was the only guy in the world that had the (accidental) privilege of knowing that she was wearing ice allllllll the way down.

Glorious.

Placing her hands on the side of the model, she carefully backed up, pulling the new balcony out from the ice with the smooth, sliding sound of water rushing across glass. As he watched Elsa carefully trace its edge, a tiny railing of ice spiking up under her fingers, Jack felt a dreamy, dazed smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. She was so beautiful, when she was happy. And, she clearly _was_ —Jack could _always_ tell, when someone was truly having fun. The instant he'd suggested that she build something, it was like a switch was being flicked inside of her, melting all of her shyness away…

She might have been born into politics, but it was growing increasingly obvious to the Guardian of Fun that Queen Elsa was an artist at heart.

She took a step back from the model, the elaborately delicate little balcony complete, and brushed off her hands. Jack walked up to her again, and realized that she was biting her lip.

"I think it looks fantastic," he said quietly. "What's bugging you, Snowflake?"

She sighed. "Well—I really kind of want to finish the doors from the inside," Elsa admitted as Jack silently walked around behind her, "But I can't see the inside because it's too _EEK!"_

Jack suddenly embraced Elsa around her waist, rocketing into the air. She squeaked in shock, and, holding her tighter around her midsection, Jack laughed and flew over the wall of the model, then hovering horizontally in the center of it with her body hanging underneath him.

"How about now?" Jack chuckled, readjusting his grip on Elsa's waist.

Elsa twisted her head around to face him, her hands on his forearms as her legs dangled beneath her. " _Please_ don't let go."

"I'm not going to drop you, Snowflake."

Jack could feel the heat rushing to the back of Elsa's neck, her pale skin flushing right next to his own as her braid swung back and forth beneath them. Gathering her courage, Elsa pulled in a deep breath, letting go of his wrists and stretching out her arms towards the wall of the model.

As the sparkling ice shot out of her hands, his heart swelled, watching as she expertly finished the balcony from the inside, tiny model doors taking shape on the overhang. His arms were beginning to burn in protest to her weight—he was now sustaining her entire body, just with his arms—but Jack hardly noticed, feeling the rush of having her body against his own again and crossing his ankles in the air as he held Elsa tighter.

Holding Elsa.

" _There_ we go!" she giggled breathlessly.

"The masterpiece complete?"

"Well, _that_ part of it," she said. "Can you put me down now?"

Jack straightened up in the air, and Elsa twisted around, flinging her arms around his neck. As he flew them up over the side of the scale model again, landing softly on the carpet and setting her down, Elsa shook her head. Straightening her dress, she then looked eagerly to Jack.

"Your turn," she laughed breathlessly.

Jack let his staff fall back onto his shoulder, sticking his hand into his pocket. "Actually," he said carefully, "I was—I was wondering if I could ask you about something."

A look of confusion swept over her face. "Um… sure?"

"What was Kristoff telling you?"

Elsa's face went pale. As she hunched over slightly, pulling her hands into her stomach, Jack felt his heart leap into his throat.

 _Smile gone. Why is the smile gone?_

"It's—not really a big deal," she stammered, letting out a nervous little laugh. "He was just being overprotective."

"How?"

"You know what?" Elsa said quickly, "We've been taking a break for—far too long. We need to work—um—yeah, we should get back to work."

She abruptly turned away, walking for the table on the other side of the room. Jack shook his head and leapt into the air, flipping forwards and landing in front of her.

" _EEP!"_

"Snowflake, this is _killing_ me," Jack begged. "What was he saying?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Then you should have no problems telling me, right?"

She bit her lip.

"Okay," she sighed, shaking her head, "I—let's just say that Kristoff doesn't understand our—friendship."

The word hit him like a punch in the stomach.

Hiding it, he drew himself up. "Like, _how?"_ Jack asked hesitantly.

"Well," Elsa admitted, "Among other things, he said that—he thinks—oh, never mind."

She tried to turn away again, and Jack caught her wrist.

"What?" he pleaded, pulling her back, "What is it?"

She let out a nervous laugh, staring at the floor. "You'll never believe it if I tell you."

"Try me."

"Okay. Well—um—he thinks—!"

Elsa paused, looking down and crossing her arms over her chest. Then, giggling slightly, she gave her head a tiny shake, looking back up into Jack's eyes.

"He thinks you want to _sleep_ with me," Elsa whispered.

He jolted.

"Um, _HA HA HA!"_ Jack sputtered frantically, "Wha-whatever might have given him _that_ idea?"

" _I know!"_ Elsa laughed, shaking her head again. "That's what _I_ told him! _Ridiculous_ , right?"

"Um—yeah! Ri-ridiculous!"

Jack swallowed hard, turning away and anxiously running his fingers through his hair.

 _THANKS, Kristoff._

"He _did_ bring up something I wanted to ask you about, though."

Jack spun around again, eager for a chance to change the subject. "What is it?"

"Were you going easy on me?"

A look of confusion swept over Jack's face.

"Um… going easy on you?" he asked.

Elsa twisted her heel into the carpet, her face flushing slightly. Biting her lip, she then looked up, meeting his gaze again.

"Earlier today. When we had our snowball fight," she said quietly. "I said that we tied, and Kristoff said you were—well, he said you being gentle with me. Were you?"

Jack froze.

Letting out a nervous laugh, he shrugged, swinging his staff behind his back and catching it with his other hand. "Daw, not any more than _you_ were going easy on _me,"_ he chuckled, avoiding eye contact.

There was a moment of silence.

Jack looked up, and realized that Elsa had fallen quiet, fidgeting anxiously with her fingers. Taking a hesitant step towards her, he pulled in a deep breath.

"Wait," Jack said quietly. " _Were_ you going easy on me?"

She was blushing harder now, rubbing her hand over her opposite elbow.

"I—um," Elsa admitted, "I'd already made you fall. And it looked like it hurt."

"You were _going easy_ on me?!"

"I didn't want—but, _hey!"_ she countered, her head snapping up, "How about _you?_ You never actually answered if _you_ were going easy on _me."_

To this, Jack swallowed hard again. Letting out another nervous laugh, he turned away from Elsa and began to pace.

"I guess I—um," he stammered, "I didn't—if North thought I wasn't behaving, or something—?"

Jack exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked back and forth, his staff on his shoulder. Elsa now began to pace as well, her capelet trailing behind her.

"Jack, it's not like I didn't think you could _take_ it," Elsa stammered, her hands clasped behind her back, "It's just—"

"And I don't _care_ what North thinks," Jack blurted, kicking at the carpet as he walked, "I just figured, if it could be avoided—"

"I thought that, if I _struck_ you—"

"But I didn't want you to slip, or—"

"And I'd already made you fall—"

"You were wearing a _dress,_ and—"

"I suppose I just didn't want to—"

"It's that I couldn't—"

"Risk _hurting_ you _,"_ they finished simultaneously.

Jack and Elsa gasped, whipping around and staring at each other in shock.

His heart in his throat, Jack looked across the room at the young queen, her wide, deep eyes staring into his own with disbelief. After a few moments, he let out a nervous laugh, stepping towards her.

"Wait—you—?" he started hesitantly, his hand slightly lifted in front of him, " _You_ were scared of— _hurting_ me?"

Elsa grasped her left arm with her right hand, her pale cheeks flushing slightly again. She looked down, twisting her heel in the carpet, and nodded, giving a tiny shrug.

"I—I've hurt people before," she choked.

Jack's eyes widened.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he took another quick pace towards her, leaping into the air and flying across the room to her side. As he touched down, Elsa gaped and jolted slightly, her icy gown sparkling in the light as she moved.

"I guess I—um," Elsa stammered, fidgeting with her fingers, "I—I was scared. I mean—what if I froze your heart? When I struck Anna—"

"—I'm not Anna."

Jack stepped up to her, taking Elsa's hand in his own. Just like he had earlier that day, he then placed in on his chest.

Elsa stiffened for a moment. Then, feeling his heartbeat, Jack watched as her face relaxed, her fingers sinking into the cloth of his hoodie. A reassuring smile tugged at the edge of his mouth, and he leaned in close to her face.

"See?" Jack whispered. "It's _fine."_

Elsa hesitantly looked up into his eyes. He raised his eyebrows, giving her hand a tiny squeeze, and she smiled weakly.

"I'm a little tougher than you think, Snowflake," Jack chuckled. "If a little bit of _ice_ was enough to kill me, I would have been dead a long time ago."

She paused, biting her lip. "But—um—"

"—Like, _permanently_ dead _._ "

To this, Elsa laughed, her smile widening a bit. Jack's heart leapt.

Oooooh, that smile.

He abruptly broke eye contact and stared at his feet, trying to hide the heat rushing to his face. On the ground in front of his toes, about two inches away, was the hem of Elsa's icy dress, the delicate swirls of frost shimmering in the faint light.

 _Frost._

"So…"

Jack snapped back into focus, looking up into Elsa's face again. Now, her eyes expectant, and she pulled her hand back off of his chest.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"So, you were going easy on me, too?"

He sheepishly looked down, sticking his hand into his pocket and running his thumb along its edge. As heat rose to his face, Jack hesitantly looked back up into Elsa's eyes, giving her a tiny nod.

"I—yeah," he admitted softly. "I was."

"Why?" Elsa prodded. "I mean, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle—"

"—I know! I—it's just—I _couldn't_ do anything that—you're— _!"_

He abruptly cut himself off, kicking at the carpet again.

After a few moments, Elsa took a tiny step towards him.

"I'm just _what?"_ she prodded.

Gripping the staff, Jack closed his eyes. Then, he pulled in a deep breath, awkwardly gesturing to her body and forcing himself to look back into her gaze.

"You're a— _girl_ ," Jack choked.

The awkward silence fell over them again. Raising her eyebrows, Elsa crossed her arms over her chest, leaning in close to his face.

"I'm fully capable of taking care of _myself,_ you know," she said softly.

"I'm sure you are," Jack responded, shifting his fingers on the staff. "But you shouldn't _have_ to."

"Jack, I _know_ how to defend myse—"

"—That's _my_ job!"

Elsa's eyes widened.

Feeling a sudden wave of self-consciousness sweeping over him, Jack nervously ran his fingers through his hair. "I mean," he choked, "Like, in—you know—like, in a general, kind of—um— _HeyYouKnowWhatIJustRealized?"_ Jack blurted quickly, backing away and gesturing to the bookshelves, "We haven't done _any_ research in— _criminal_ court cases! By troth! How silly of us! Do you want to do that? I think we should do that."

Leaving Elsa standing paralyzed by the table, Jack whirled around and leapt into the air, flying up to the top of the bookshelves.

 _Please, oh please,_ he thought desperately, frantically scanning the books as he floated in the air front of them, _Let "criminal cases" actually be a thing—I could have SWORN I saw some of these blasted things say AH-HA!_

Letting out a sigh of relief, Jack darted to the end of the magenta-colored book spines, going for the most recent edition. Finding it—the covers _looked_ the newest, anyway—he stopped and stuck his staff down the back of his hoodie, flicking his fingers over the cloth and fusing the shepherd's crook to the fabric. He then carefully grasped the volume, pulling it out and turning around to fly back down to the table.

As he reached it, Jack realized that Elsa was almost there herself. Slamming the record down onto the wood, he bounded into the air, lunging in front of her and pulling out her chair before she reached it. Elsa startled, her ears turning slightly pink, and thanked him just before he launched himself into the air again to fetch another of the enormous books.

Touching back down on the carpet, he heaved a secondary volume to the table, dropping it with a _boom_ at his place across from Elsa. Jack took a step back, looking at it as Elsa pulled open the cover of the volume of court records.

"Can I sit on that side of the table with you?" Jack asked suddenly.

Elsa glanced up from the court records with surprise.

"Um—of course," she said, her face filled with confusion. "Why couldn't you?"

Jack didn't respond, but tossed his staff into his hand, sweeping it across the table and blasting the second book over next to hers. Then, yanking out his chair, he nearly ran around the table to Elsa's side, dragging it across the carpet behind him.

 _CLUNK._

And he shoved it right up to hers, the large wooden armrests slamming together. As Elsa looked up in shock, he jumped up into the air, pulling the volume of court records towards himself and scrambling into the seat.

"Don't mind me," Jack said.

Elsa looked to his chair, crammed up next to hers, and then to her book, and then back to the chair. A strange expression crossing her face, Jack's heart leapt into his throat as she stood up, shoving her book across the table. He then watched in horror and she pushed her chair back out, walking away from him to the opposite side of the table.

Wait, was this a rejection again? Had he been too forward? Maybe Elsa was uncomfortable with it. But she'd said—

It was then that Jack noticed Elsa was swirling her hands in the air, sparkling ice of some soft glinting below the table, out of his field of vision. Feeling the tiny gust of wind that accompanied such a creation on his feet, Jack swallowed hard.

"Wait, wha—what are you making?" he stammered.

Jack fell quiet as Elsa took a step back, brushing her hands against each other. Her cheeks flushing, she looked up into his eyes again, a hesitant smile tugging at the edge of her mouth.

"Haven't you ever seen a piano bench before?" Elsa asked softly.

.

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 **AUTHOR'S NOTE (again): Anyway, something ELSE that my advisor is never going to find out about is that I've got a little background as a singer/songwriter/sound editor, even thought I haven't done all that much with it since high school (something else I basically gave up in favor of physics). I've been working on is a vocal/piano piece called "Broken, Jagged Edges" that combines the musical themes from ROTG's "Prologue" and "Jack's Memories" with Frozen's "Let It Go." I'm about making the accompaniment in Garage Band software that adds percussion, bass, strings, and a flute (because I can), and I'll eventually record the vocals, but the lyrics have been finished for a while. Let me know if anybody's interested; I'm figuring that (if people are) I'll post the full lyrics tomorrow as a "chapter," which I will then delete and replace as soon as the next _real_ chapter is ready to post. Thanks for being awesome, and have a fantastic day!**


	41. Not A Chapter (Some Lyrics I Promised)

**WOW, I wasn't expecting people to be so interested! The reviews and comments and messages mean the WORLD to me. As promised, here are the lyrics to "Broken, Jagged Edges," the vocal/piano piece I'm working on combining musical themes from ROTG's "Prelude" and "Jack's Memories" with Frozen's "Let It Go," and adding, of course, the original piece itself. I imagine it to be sung from Elsa's perspective in an upcoming chapter (part of the reason I'm revealing it early is because I don't even really know yet if the character will be to this emotional point in "Fleurs," where I was originally going to put this). The rhyme scheme, which is surprisingly complicated, will make a LOT more sense with the music. Thanks for being interested, and let me know what you think!**

.

 **UPDATE, 2/15/16: There is a 45-second preview of a draft of this on YouTube. Search _SNEAK PEEK OF DRAFT "Broken, Jagged Edges" from "Ice Alliance, a Jelsa Fanfic"_ and you'll be there. The channel, of course, is Nope Not Telling. (I highly recommend listening to "Rise of the Guardians Soundtrack Prelude" first, so you'll see some of the first references-disclaimer; it is a DRAFT) ;)**

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 **41: NOT A CHAPTER (Some lyrics I promised)**

Broken, Jagged Edges: Lyrics

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(Verse One)

In the candlelight,

And on the floor…

With the map of all my secrets,

I've shown no one else before.

What is this strange new emotion

That I'm gravitating toward?

I've denied, and tried, to _crush_ inside,

These thoughts I can't afford!

Let someone in—

Just this one time—?

If I'm honest with myself,

I know that I'm—

.

(Chorus)

Just a little bit broken—

Just a little bit ruined—

A little bit bad,

A little bit mad,

Coming—a little bit undone!

Heaven knows, I've tried to fight,

But you've made losing look so fun!

I feel I'm falling fast now,

Like I never have before—

Cause all my broken, jagged edges

Seem to match with yours.

.

(Verse Two)

Conceal, don't feel,

Don't let you know

Want to loose my inhibitions,

And go dancing through the snow!

It's not that something was missing;

No, I don't believe that's true.

Yet, I try and try to justify

How close I feel to you?

The more I look—

The more I see—

In so many ways, you are

So much like me!

.

(Chorus)

Just a little bit broken—

Just a little bit ruined—

A little bit bad,

A little bit mad,

Coming—a little bit undone!

Heaven knows, I've tried to fight,

But you've made losing look so fun!

I feel I'm falling fast now,

Like I never have before—

Cause all my broken, jagged edges

Seem to match with yours.

.

(Bridge)

I'm at a crossroads now—

Between my heart and mind.

I've got—

To be with you somehow;

I think that we'd find,

If we combined—

These shattered shards

Would be aligned.

 _'Cause you and I—_

 _Are_

.

(Final Chorus)

Just a little bit broken—!

Just a little bit ruined—!

A little bit bad,

A little bit mad,

Coming—a little bit undone!

I'll fix you, if you'll fix me;

These broken pieces be made one!

I feel I'm falling fast now,

Like I never have before—

Cause all my broken, jagged edges

Seem to match with yours.

.

(Ending)

Though shattered now, we could be beautiful;

Two broken halves make something whole!

I feel I'm falling fast now,

Like I never have before…

Cause all these broken, jagged edges—

Rough and ragged, jagged edges!

All my broken, jagged edges

Seem

To match

With yours.


	42. Also Not A Chapter (Satire Outtake)

**TO THE GUEST REVIEWER THAT REQUESTED THE KOBE BRYANT CAMEO (multiple times): To answer your question, _no_ , this fic is _not_ set in modern times—I fling historical accuracy out the window for Arendelle (just like Disney!), but this is set in 1842. I also want you to know that I'm SURE you are a wonderful person, and that—well, basically, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, and assuming that you weren't MEANING to troll me when you said my stuff was "crap," and then moved on without any further explanation. However, hurt, confused, and mostly confused, I was so completely _baffled_ trying to figure out what your review meant that I couldn't resist writing _this_ chapter, in which I stomp directly into the scene to ask Jack and Elsa themselves what I should do about it.**

 **This chapter, basically, is a 6000-word satire on _fanfiction itself_ , and is thus an outtake. On the plus side: Jack and Elsa get to make out. **

**A lot.**

 **Again, I'm SURE you are a wonderful person, and I would have just contacted you directly, but because you're a GUEST reviewer, I can't. So, please don't hate me for this chapter—it was INSANELY fun to write, and the idea of Kobe Bryant showing up in a Jelsa fic set in 1842 Norway so _tickled_ me that I _had_ to run with the idea.**

 **I LOVES YOU, RANDOM GUEST REVIEWER THAT DIDN'T MEAN TO TROLL ME! ~NopeNotTelling**

 **.**

 **FOR THE REST OF YOU: Look, I got a confusing review, and I was so befuddled that I ended up writing this. THIS IS A SATIRE, and is NOT actually a part of the story. Don't take this too seriously, okay? THIS CHAPTER IS A LONG JOKE, or rather, THIS IS HOW I RESPOND TO TROLLING. ;)**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Reference to the fact that I basically gave Jack a sexual fetish, a large serving of sexual innuendo, intentionally ridiculous amount of passionate kissing.**

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 **42: SATIRE (outtake scene) (Seriously, if you read NO other Author's Notes, read this one!)**

.

 _sa-tire_ (săt′īr′) n. 1. a. A literary work in which human foolishness is attacked through irony, sarcasm, derision, or wit.

 _-[shortened] definition of "Satire,"_ _The Free Dictionary_

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It was a bit more difficult to work, with Jack's arm around her waist as they sat side-by-side on the bench, but Elsa quickly found that a strange comfort accompanied his touch. Every once in a while, feeling the chill of his arm shift on her back, she would jolt, remembering who she was sitting with. Even through the fabric of his dark blue shirt, he was ice cold.

Not that the cold had ever bothered her.

"HALLO!" a voice suddenly exclaimed.

Jack and Elsa startled, whirling around on the bench. Casually walking towards them, a girl in her early twenties with a notebook and a pencil stuck in her hair had suddenly appeared by the corner of one of the bookshelves.

Gathering her senses, Elsa leapt onto her feet, nearly knocking over the bench. Jack also jumped up, grabbing his staff and spinning around.

"HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?" he demanded.

"Oh, _relax_ , Mr. Emotional," the girl scoffed. "And put that confounded stick thingy away. It's useless against me, anyhow."

"You think so, huh?" He took another step towards her, strategically moving in front of Elsa and readjusting his grip on the shepherd's crook.

"I _know_ so," the girl scoffed, casually flipping open the notebook and pulling the pencil from her hair. Scribbling something down, she shrugged, snapping the notebook shut. "Go ahead. Try it."

Jack, setting his jaw, lunged forward, flinging the staff through the air.

Nothing happened.

A look of horror sweeping over his face, he stumbled back a step, looking at the shepherd's crook in confusion.

"B-But I—what the— _!"_

"I'm The Author, dawling." She smiled sweetly. "Now, take a seat."

Jack's eyes widened, and he looked frantically between the girl, and his staff, and then back to the girl. She grinned, and he and Elsa—in sheepish confusion—turned around, sitting back down onto the bench.

"Anyway," the girl continued, walking around the table and slapping down the notebook onto its surface, "I usually wouldn't do something like this, but I got a guest review on the last chapter that was so baffling that I got desperate. You know what? This chair looks uncomfortable."

She flipped open the notebook, pulling the pencil from her hair again and scribbling something down.

 _POOF!_

The Author grinned, grabbing the notebook and flinging herself across the couch that had suddenly materialized on the other side of the table. With Jack and Elsa watching in shock, she then swung her legs around, propping up her thick-soled, gothic combat boots on the couch's armrest.

"Now _that,"_ she chuckled, " _That_ is _comfortable."_

"Wait," Jack choked, "You just—you can _do_ that?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Frankly," she laughed, flipping open the notebook again, "I can do—anything the heck I _want._ Elsa, slap him."

 _SLAP!_

" _HEY!"_

"Now do it again."

 _SLAP!_

 _"WHAT the—"_

"Now pick up the staff, and whack him with it."

 _WHACK!_

" _Stop it stop it stop it_ STOP IT!" Jack shrieked, leaping back from the bench and from Elsa, who was still holding the staff and looking as horrified as he was. Jack turned to The Author. " _ENOUGH!_ WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"

"Meh," she shrugged. "Because it's funny."

" _HOW IS THIS FUNNY TO YOU?"_

"Well, the last one was a pun," The Author said proudly. "Elsa picked up your stick, and slapped you with it… get it? Because… uh… it's a _stick,_ and she _slapped_ you with it…?"

Stunned silence.

" _Slap… stick?_ Like, _slapstick?"_

More silence.

"Oh, forget it," The Author sighed, rolling her eyes and folding her arms behind her head on the couch. "You asked for it, Frosty. Speaking of which, I kind of want one now."

 _POOF!_

The Author smiled sweetly, daintily plucking the milkshake out of the air and pulling in a long, chocolatey slurp.

Jack's face went pale. "WHAT the—"

"And a pillow…"

 _POOF!_

"THIS IS WITCHCRAFT!"

 _FWOOOOOOOM!_

"AND NOW THE COUCH IS LEVITATING!" the girl proclaimed.

It was true. Jack and Elsa, jaws dropped, found themselves staring in shock as the couch, which had materialized in front of them moments earlier, was now effortlessly floating seven feet up in the air on the other side of the table.

The Author crossed her legs, sitting up and assuming a zen-like pose on the floating sofa, closing her eyes and placing her palms-up hands on her knees.

" _Ommmmmmmmm,"_ she hummed.

The strange girl hovering above them with the apparently all-powerful notebook beside her, Jack and Elsa looked to each other in confusion.

After a few more moments, Jack pulled in a deep breath.

"So… uh," he started carefully, "You got a… confusing review?"

"Oh! Right!"

Grabbing the notebook, the girl scribbled something down. A fraction of a second later, the sofa fell out of the air, crashing into the floor on the other side of the table again with a resounding boom.

She snapped the notebook shut, tossing it onto the cushion.

"Yeah. And I was so completely BAFFLED by it that I figured I'd write myself into the scene and talk to you two directly," she shrugged, adjusting herself on the couch. "The thing is, it's a _guest_ reviewer. I would have just contacted him—or her, I guess—myself, but I can't."

"What did it say?" Elsa asked.

"In general?" The Author sighed, raising an eyebrow, "It was something along the lines of: _This is awesome, but also it's crap, and you have to put in a Kobe Bryant cameo_."

An awkward silence fell over the room.

"Uh…" Jack said slowly, "So… are they a _fan_ , or a _troll?_ "

"I have NO idea." She shook her head. "That's why I'm in here, asking _you_. The best part is, this person then left _another_ review, under a different name, trying to further justify the Kobe Bryant cameo. Apparently, this is _REALLY_ important to them."

The Author sat up, moving her legs back in front of her and leaning her elbows onto her knees. "The thing is, I've always _known_ that my first troll was going to show up at some point, and I was ready with chocolate and tissues. But I don't even know if I should be upset about this," she admitted. "I'm just—confused. Like, really, REALLY confused."

"You really shouldn't feed to trolls," Jack said.

"But see, I don't _know_ if this person is a troll."

Elsa looked uncomfortable, shifting on the bench. "You know," she offered, "Maybe they didn't _realize_ that they were trolling you. They're probably a perfectly wonderful person in real life."

"Well, that would make it easier to swallow. Even though I was so thrown off that I was in a state of confusion-induced writing paralysis about three days." The Author smiled bitterly. "But, it's either obsessing about the fanfic, or actually ACKNOWLEDGING the fact that I'm not understanding magnetic vector potentials… at all."

Elsa raised her eyebrows. "So, what did you do?"

"Meh," The Author shrugged, "Same thing I always do when I'm avoiding reality. I write your future sex scenes."

"Our future _WHAT?!"_ Elsa jolted.

"Oh, don't worry, dawling. You'll find he's _very_ good with fun."

Elsa's face turned beet red, and Jack raised his eyebrows, suddenly sitting up taller on the bench. The Author smirked, muttering to herself as she continued to jot down notes in her notebook.

" _Like_ … really, really, _really_ good with fun," The Author added, her eye twitching.

Jack beamed, interlacing his fingers and looking to Elsa.

" _Thank_ you," he enunciated.

"Hey. _I'm_ just staying true to character," The Author chuckled, "I was just expanding your 'center' into its _obvious_ t-rated context—and I _do_ keep it rated t. I don't do m-rated stuff. But as for _you,_ Elsa," she continued, gesturing with her pencil, "You should consider yourself to be quite lucky. It isn't _every_ female romantic protagonist that gets a love interest who is _literally_ magica—"

"—ABOUT THE REVIEW," Elsa blurted, "So—um—this Kobe Bryant person—?"

The Author bit her lip. "Yeah, what about him?"

Elsa shifted in her seat, staring determinately at her hands. She then glanced to the side, uncomfortably noticing how Jack was inching closer to her on the bench, and pulled in a deep breath.

"Um… who is he?" she squeaked.

"Oh!" The Author crossed her legs, relaxing back onto the sofa. "He's a famous basketball player in twenty-first century America. And, from what I've seen, he's a pretty nice person, too."

Blank stares.

"…Come again?" Jack choked.

The Author laughed. "He's Kobe Bryant," she chuckled. "Apparently, he can do anything… including breaking into a Jelsa fic set in Norway in 1842."

Jack and Elsa looked to each other in shock. Suddenly, the girl sat bolt upright again, her eyes wide with excitement.

" _Wait_ ," The Author exclaimed, " _I_ know how to fix this!"

 **.**

 ***BEEP***

 **PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT/DISCLAIMER:**

 **WE INTERRUPT THIS STORY TO OFFICIALLY STATE THAT ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS FANFICTION ARE FICTICIOUS. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO REAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.**

 **KOBE BRYANT** ** _WILL NOT_** **BE MAKING AN APPEARANCE IN THIS FIC. IF A CHARACTER** ** _HAPPENS_** **TO RESEMBLE A LIVING PERSON NAMED KOBE BRYANT, THE AUTHOR WOULD LIKE TO BE CLEAR THAT IT IS** ** _NOT_** **ACTUALLY KOBE BRYANT, BUT** ** _IS_** **, IN FACT, A** ** _COMPLETELY ORIGINAL CHARACTER_** **THAT** ** _HAPPENS_** **TO BE A BASKETBALL PLAYER THAT** ** _HAPPENS_** **TO LOOK EXACTLY LIKE KOBE BRYANT AND** ** _HAPPENS_** **TO, BY COMPLETE COINCIDENCE, BE NAMED KOBE BRYANT AS WELL.**

 **HOWEVER: IT IS NOT ACTUALLY KOBE BRYANT, BECAUSE** ** _THAT_** **WOULD BE AGAINST POLICY.**

 **SO, IT'S NOT KOBE BRYANT.**

 **TOTALLY NOT.**

 **NO WAY.**

 ***BEEP***

.

" _Wait_ ," The Author exclaimed, " _I_ know how to fix this!"

They watched in confusion as The Author, beaming, flipped open the notebook again, scribbling something down. Biting her lip, she finished writing, and snapped it shut, hugging it to her chest.

"Any moment now," the girl grinned, looking up at the skylight.

 _WHUMP._

Jack and Elsa snapped their heads up. Plastered onto the glass above them, having suddenly fallen from the sky, was a tall, dark figure wearing a basketball uniform.

They stared at each other in stunned silence.

The man started to slide down the glass.

 _SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…_

 _"I SHIP JELSA SOOOOOOO HAAAAAAARD!"_ Kobe yelled. _"AAAAUGH!"_

As Kobe Bryant fell off the skylight, the muffled yelling turning into a scream, Jack and Elsa slowly looked back to the girl on the couch.

" _Wow,"_ Jack said. "You are— _really—_ bad at this."

"Well, what do YOU suggest?"

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Um," she said quietly, "Maybe— _not—_ splatting this person's hero onto the skylight?"

The Author sighed, rolling her eyes somewhere up into the vicinity of her hairline. Taking out her pencil again, she scribbled down something new in the notebook.

"Fine, _fine…"_

 _"WHOOO-_ _ **HOO!"**_ yelled a voice from outside, _"I CAN_ _ **FLY**_ _!"_

Hearing the sound of wild cheering, the three looked up again, to catch a glimpse of Kobe Bryant (who had suddenly sprouted an enormous pair of purple and gold wings) soaring over the top of the skylight.

"Meh," Jack shrugged.

The Author's eyes narrowed. Setting her jaw, she started writing in the notebook again.

 _Scribble scribble scribble._

 _"AND I_ _ **BREATHE FIIIIIIRE!"**_ Kobe shrieked.

Elsa yelped, grabbing Jack by the back of his hoodie and yanking them away from the table as the entire skylight, melted by the sudden fireball, came crashing down onto the floor in front of them.

 _"WHAT'S HAPPENING?!"_ she cried.

" _I DON'T KNOW!"_

The Author, who was now smirking on the other side of the room and casually sitting underneath a fire-proof canopy, continued to write.

Bursting out of the flames, the tall man leapt up onto the table, dribbling a large orange ball and leaping into the air as he ran down its length, pounding the ball through a small hoop, which had suddenly materialized twenty feet above the table.

" _SLAM DUNK!"_ he yelled, _"WOOOO!"_

"WHERE IS ALL THAT APPLAUSE COMING FROM?"

The Author shrugged. "Oh," she giggled, "He's Kobe Bryant. It just kind of follows him around."

Now suddenly thirty feet tall, a giant Kobe Bryant was running around the library, toppling bookcases and his enormous feet shaking the ground with each step as he dribbled the ball.

 _BOOM. BOOM. BOOM._

"HOW DO YOU MAKE HIM STOP?!" Elsa shrieked, "HE'S RUINING _EVERYTHING!"_

Another set of bookcases, now on fire, fell away from the table, hitting into the next and the next like dominos.

"AND MY AWESOMENESS INCREASES!" Kobe boomed, "ALLLLLL HAAAAAIL MEEEEEEEEE!"

The cheering swelled.

The Author grinned. "Acknowledge him, Elsa."

" _WHAT?!"_

 _"DO WHAT SHE SAYS!"_ Jack screamed, " _JUST DO IT! ACKNOWLEDGE HIM!"_

He was running back towards them, the sound of the crowd growing louder as he approached. "AND NOW THE BASKETBALL HOOP IS **_ON FIIIIIRE—"_**

"— ** _TROPHY!"_** Elsa shrieked.

The giant Kobe Bryant paused.

A silence falling over the library, now in ruins, he slowly turned around, stooping down to the tiny Snow Queen. She frantically swirled her hands through the air, heaving a ball on a pedestal, made of ice, that was half of her height.

"I—UM," she proclaimed, her legs shaking, "I, QUEEN ELSA OF ARENDELLE, AM DELIGHTED TO PRESENT THIS—UH—AWARD—TO—"

Elsa froze, looking to The Author in desperation.

" _Kobe Bryant,"_ the girl hissed.

"KOH-BEE BRIAN," Elsa blurted, pushing her arms up, "FOR HIS OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENTS IN—!"

She glaced to The Author again.

 _"Basketball."_

"BASKETBALL!" Elsa shrieked.

A sheepish grin tugging at the edge of his mouth, the giant Kobe Bryant gingerly reached forward, plucking it out of her hands. As the weight lifted, Elsa stumbled backwards, Jack lurching forward and catching her as she was about to collapse.

"Sweeeeet," the giant Kobe Bryant grinned, tossing the trophy to himself as he straightened up, the basketball on his hip. "Thanks, your majesty."

She nodded weakly, collapsing a bit into Jack's arms.

He started to turn away, walking towards the place where the skylight used to be, his enormous wings unfurling.

"I'll put this one with my other ten thousand," he muttered happily to himself as his wings began to flap.

 _FWOOM. FWOOM. FWOOM._

And he was gone.

Standing in the destruction, the burning bookshelves and shattered glass around them, Jack and Elsa slowly looked back to the girl on the sofa. She was now holding a large glass of pink liquid with an Olaf-shaped Crazy Straw sticking out of the top.

She shrugged, feeling the air with her tongue for the end of the straw. Grasping it, she pulled it into her mouth.

 _SLUUUUUUUURP._

Noticing their stunned silence, The Author paused. Then, she raised her eyebrows, holding out the drink.

"Uh… lemonade?"

" _WHAT'S_ **WRONG** WITH YOU?!" Jack sputtered, flinging his arm to the side. "Elsa and I were having a PERFECTLY BELIEVABLE sweet and romantic scene, and then you had to come in and do—and—THAT! WHAT _WAS_ THAT?!"

"Meh," she shrugged, "Comedy."

Elsa's jaw dropped, her face pale.

" _YOU_ just destroyed _HUNDREDS OF YEARS'_ worth of Arendelle's _records!"_ she choked.

The Author acknowledged this, taking another slurp of the drink and casually looking around the room. From somewhere in the back of the library, the crackling of the fire resounding through the room, one of the final bookshelves began to collapse, slowly falling onto the ground.

 _Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee_ BOOM.

Silence.

"Hmm," the girl mused. "I guess you _do_ kind of have a point there."

" _Soooo_ ," Jack gritted, "What are you going to DO about it?"

"Oh, hush. I got this."

The girl rolled her eyes, flipping open the notebook again.

 _POOF!_

And everything instantaneously returned to the way it was before.

Elsa let out a sigh of relief. " _Thank_ you," she exhaled.

The Author nodded. "Yeah," she said, "The obsession with athletes… it's something I've never really understood. I mean, I'm sure that this guest reviewer is perfectly normal, but I've known _some_ people have such intense obsessions that it's… disturbing."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "More disturbing than giving a Dreamworks character a sexual fetish?"

"YOU'RE _STILL THINKING ABOUT THIS MORNING?"_ Elsa sputtered.

" _I'm a guy!_ "

"I cannot _believe_ that ice is a _fetish_ for you—"

"—Well, _NOW_ it is!"

"It is _NOT a fetish,_ Jack! _"_ The Author protested. "It's just a _thing_ I'm using as a mechanism to express your intense sexual attraction to Elsa, without ever _actually referring_ to body parts or sex!"

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"So… a fetish," he said slowly.

"Yeah, basically."

"I— _waitaminute_ ," Jack said, starting to walk slowly towards The Author, "I just thought of something. You—um—you're writing all of our emotions and thoughts—right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

With Elsa watching in confusion, Jack then paced quickly up to The Author, leaning in close to her ear and whispering something that Elsa couldn't quite make out.

The girl jolted.

"OH my word," she snapped. " _NO."_

"Aw, _come on!"_ Jack begged, " _Please?_ Can't you just write in a _little—"_

"—YOU'VE KNOWN HER FOR THREE DAYS!"

"I have a blasted _fetish_ now, because of you," he snapped. "You. OWE me. Frankly, I think you owe BOTH of us."

"But you _can't._ Not _yet,"_ The Author whined. "Jack… it doesn't make sense with the _plotline."_

"Unlike—say—this _entire_ outtake scene?"

Silence.

"Okay, okay…" The Author sighed, rolling her eyes as she flipped open the notebook.

" _YES!"_

"Just _ten minutes,"_ the girl with the notebook said sternly, raising an eyebrow at him and beginning to write.

A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face as Jack grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the table and towards the end of the bookshelves and the wall.

"Wait," Elsa stammered nervously, "What did you ask her? What's going—"

"—You'll find out. Come 'ere, Snowflake."

Reaching the wall, Jack suddenly yanked Elsa around, shoving her against it and reaching for her wrists.

A strange expression crept over Elsa's features.

" _Wow,"_ Elsa breathed. "I suddenly have this _really_ intense desire to make out with you."

Jack's breath caught, his mouth falling slightly open in delight. Then, looking to The Author, he raised his eyebrows.

"Can you _please_ just keep her like this?" he begged.

" _NO."_

"B-But this is _completely out of character!"_ Elsa exclaimed as he adjusted his grip on her wrists, "I—I would _never_ do something like this! I mean, I _want_ to make out with you, but there hasn't been enough relationship development yet!"

"Yeah, I wouldn't normally push things this fast, either," Jack said. He then smiled mischievously, peering up at her through his eyelashes. "Well—I mean— _maybe_ I wouldn't. But, if the entire scene is going to be cut as an outtake anyway, the _real_ question is: do we care?"

With The Author patiently waiting by the table, Elsa and Jack stared into each other's eyes for a long moment.

"Good point," Elsa gasped.

Slamming her body up against the wall and pinning her, Jack smashed his lips against hers.

.

.

 _Ten Minutes Later_

 _._

 _"Ahem."_

The Author sighed, glancing at her watch again. Still shoved up against the wall, Elsa gave a tiny moan, twisting Jack's hair in her fingers as he kissed her again, his hands on her shoulders.

The Author shook her head, jumping down from the table. " _OOOOOH-_ kay, lovebirds," she said loudly, "It's been ten minutes. That's _more_ than enough."

" _Mmph,"_ Jack responded, going in for another kiss.

Elsa, her braid almost completely pulled out, sighed happily, then taking another tiny gasp for breath before the snogging resumed. Her lipstick, a dark shade of red, had by now long since been smeared across both of their pale complexions as Jack Frost and Queen Elsa passionately, randomly, and without _any_ character development or literary explanation whatsoever, continued making out.

Her eyes narrowing, The Author stomped up to them, tapping Jack on the shoulder.

 _"Release,"_ she demanded. "Come on. This is making me sick."

Gasping. Kissing.

"Seriously. I am _not_ a romance novelist," The Author groaned. " _Stop it._ Stop this _right_ now. _"_

Elsa's hands slid down onto Jack's neck, and he shifted on his feet, pushing her against the wall again.

Oh, the readers had better _freaking_ be enjoying this.

The Author exhaled slowly, shaking her head. Pulling the pencil from her hair, she flipped open the notebook, threateningly touching the lead to the paper.

"Keep ignoring me, and I'm _making Jack gay."_

They jolted.

Breaking apart a few inches, Jack and Elsa—not letting each other go—looked to The Author in horror.

"You _wouldn't_ ," Elsa choked.

"You _can't,"_ Jack added, his face pale. "I mean—you have the word 'Jelsa' _in the title._ You _can't_ make me gay."

The Author smirked, raising her eyebrows and waggling the pencil at them.

 _"I_ can do aaaaanything I _want,"_ she teased in sing-song. "It's a _fanfic._ "

"But you said you're trying to stay true to the movies," Jack protested, "And—and I'm pretty sure that Dreamworks was making it clear that I—"

"—Was intentionally, _shamelessly_ designed to try to hit a Swooning Fangirl market? Yeah," The Author acknowledged. "I think they _definitely_ were shooting for heterosexual, with you. I mean, like, hiring the guy that plays _Captain Kirk_ in the new 'Star Trek's for your voice? And how about that forced relationship with Tooth? _That_ wasn't out of the blue at _all."_

" _TOOTH?!"_ Elsa sputtered, "As in, the _TOOTH FAIRY?!"_

Jack swallowed hard, his face pained. _"Why_ did you have to bring that up?" he groaned.

"Because I'm evil." The Author giggled. "And, come _on,_ Dreamworks. Must _every_ adult female character in your movies be a mom or a love interest? You know, _some_ women can be happy _without_ a man."

"Says the Jelsa shipper?"

"Touché."

Elsa's eyes were still wide with disbelief. " _You_ said the Tooth Fairy was _half HUMMINGBIRD!"_ she cried.

"I was _DESPERATE_ , okay?" Jack choked, blood rising to his cheeks. "Like—really, really, SUPER desperate—"

"—Wait," The Author blurted suddenly, "You guys aren't _fighting,_ are you?"

"We—"

"—Meh, don't answer. Nobody cares." The Author flipped open the notebook again, flicking her fingers casually in their direction and beginning to write. "Let's be honest; all anybody really seems to want is for you two to get together as quickly as possible. Go back to being adorable."

Jack and Elsa, with Elsa still pressed against the wall, blinked. After a few moments of silence, they slowly turned back to each other.

"You're _wonderful_ ," Jack breathed.

"And you're amazing!"

"I am _so_ in love with you."

"Should we kiss again?"

"This is all going to be an outtake, anyway."

"True, true."

And the unexplained, out-of-character, and yet somehow still entertaining lip-smashing resumed.

.

.

 _Another Ten Minutes Later_

.

"Time's up," The Author proclaimed. "I can't take much of this anymore. _Release the Queen_ , Mr. Guardian."

Jack reluctantly let go of Elsa's shoulders, taking a step back from the wall and messily wiping his arm across his mouth. Gasping for breath, she shakily stumbled forward, tripping over the edge of her dress and falling into his arms.

" _Eep!"_

" _Whoa!"_ Jack caught her, and Elsa giggled breathlessly, starting to pull herself up against him. "You okay?"

She said nothing, but nodded weakly. Looking to The Author, and then to Jack, and then back to The Author, her face flushed.

" _Heh_ ," Elsa squeaked.

The Author chuckled, shaking her head. "Told ya you'd enjoy it," she drawled, pulling out the pencil again.

Jack grinned, helping Elsa back onto her feet. She giggled again, shaking her head slightly, and Jack then looked back to The Author, raising his eyebrows.

"Just so you know," he said intensely, "I forgive you for _everything."_

"Oh, good," she shrugged. "Because I have a _lot_ more emotional torture and drama to drag you guys through."

"Wait, _WHAT?"_

"Hey. Don't worry. You get a super happy ending." The Author grinned. "I don't do sad endings. I _hate_ sad endings."

"Well," Elsa admitted breathlessly, "I guess that's good to know. Um… I think?"

"And it's probably time to wrap this outtake chapter up," Jack said. "I mean… how weird is it for the author to barge in and talk about themselves in Third Person?"

"Yeah, but it's about to get even weirder. I kind of want to address my reader directly." The Author shrugged, turning the page of the notebook. "Ever heard of _Second_ Person, Frost?"

 _CRASH!_

.

You find yourself suddenly standing in a room with a high, pitched ceiling. Far above you is a skylight, formed into a dome of glass, and in front of you in a long table with a bench on one side. Taking a hesitant step forward, bookshelves looming above you on both sides, you realize that the bench is glinting in the faint lamplight, throwing sparkling colors in all directions like a prism.

Approaching it, you look closer, and realize that the bench is made out of… _ice?_

"AH! THERE you are!" a voice exclaims.

You snap your head up. Walking briskly towards you is a girl in her early twenties, holding a notebook. As she clomps in your direction in her gothic combat boots, sticking her pencil behind her ear and extending her hand, you can't help but notice that there is no further physical description of her character.

 _Huh,_ you think to yourself. _She must be trying to conceal her appearance, which would probably make her REALLY easy to spot at physics conferences._

"Indeed I am!" the girl says enthusiastically.

Stiffening, you sharply suck in your breath.

" _Wait_ ," you say carefully, "You—you can _hear my thoughts?"_

"I'm _writing_ them, dawling. It's Second Person," she giggles, sticking out her hand. "I'm The Author. DANDY to make your acquaintance."

A wave of confusion sweeps over you. Looking over the girl's shoulder, you see a young, pale couple standing on the other side of the room. They appear to be horrified.

" _How_ is she _doing_ this?" the boy in the hoodie hisses, "This _can't_ be allowed. She _can't_ be able to do this!"

To this, the girl in front of you lets out a laugh, spinning around and snapping her fingers through the air as she sassily swings her hips back and forth.

" _Anything._ I. _Want,"_ she enunciates. "It's a _Fanfic._ Remember? _"_

"But this is _weird!_ You've even changed tense!"

" _Aaaaanything_ I want, Frosty."

The girl swivels back to you, shrugging. "It's not every day that The Author gets to stomp into her own story to give spoilers to the main characters," she giggles. "I'll have to wipe their memories, of course, but—"

"— _NOOOOOOOOO!"_

The boy opens his mouth to protest again, but before he can say anything, the girl in the sparkling dress leans in to his ear, gently taking his arm and whispering something you can't quite distinguish. The boy's face breaks into an enthusiastic grin, and he grabs the girl's hand, pulling her away.

"Am I one of your characters now?" you ask.

The Author shakes her head. "Nah," she replies, "I mean— _technically_ , yes, but you're one of my readers. I just wanted to speak to you directly."

She gestures to the couch, walking around and collapsing onto it. You follow, an expression of confusion sweeping over your face, while pretending not to notice that the pale couple on the other side of the room is now making out.

Again.

"I just wanted to talk to you about trolling," The Author sighs.

You raise your eyebrows.

"Trolling?" you ask, "What's that?"

"It's when people go out of their way to say pointlessly nasty and negative things on the internet, while hiding behind an anonymous username," The Author shrugs. "Yes. It sucks. Do you feel like nachos? I feel like nachos."

She pulls a pencil from her hair, and jots down a quick note in her notebook.

 _POOF!_

And offers you the plate. You shake your head, and she shrugs again, selecting a chip and popping it into her mouth.

 _CRUNCH._

"Suit yourself. Here's the thing about trolling, though," she sighs, "I _shouldn't_ care about the trolls. I mean—why should I care, if somebody on the internet doesn't like me? I think I'm doing pretty well for myself, right now. Frankly, in the middle of writing this chapter, I found out that I got into my first choice graduate school. As of next fall, I've officially pursuing a PhD in Optical Physics."

 _Optical Physics?_

"What does _that_ mean?" you snort.

The Author raises her eyebrows.

"That I'm awesome?" she chuckles. "That I'm fighting through my emotional disorders like a boss? **That my wonderful readers have helped me get through more than they realize?** That I'm passive-aggressively _reminding_ those readers of how NOT socially acceptable it is for me, with what I do for my job, to secretly SHIP JELSA? Take your pick."

 _Subtle,_ you think to yourself.

The Author laughs, taking another nacho.

 _CRUNCH._

"But see—that's my point," she sighs, "The opinion of a troll _shouldn't_ matter to me. I mean, come _on—_ I'm a _laser physicist._ That _alone_ should make me be perfectly confident in who I am, but—I'm not. If somebody online, somebody I've _never met,_ tells me that my stuff is crap, it _certainly_ shouldn't hurt my feelings. But it still does."

You acknowledge this.

"Are you sure that you aren't just upset because you got an honest, negative review?" you ask carefully.

"OH, no. That's _totally_ different," she scoffs. "I mean, I don't _enjoy_ having my mistakes pointed out to me, but I'm grateful for it when it happens. Constructive criticism helps me as a writer."

 _CRUNCH._

"I _do_ love guacamole," The Author sighs dreamily. "I should hang out in my own writing more often."

"So, what's the difference between a negative review and a trolling review?"

"Ah. Right." The Author puts down the nachos, leaning forward onto her knees. She pulls in a deep breath, closing her eyes.

"A negative, but _constructive_ , review is one that basically says, _This didn't work for me, and here's why,"_ she begins. "Sometimes I'll disagree, but that's okay. More often than not, those reviews allow me to catch mistakes, improve the story, or just get better as a writer. I really value those, like I value all of the reviews. Even when I'm moderating them, like the guest reviews, that's why I almost NEVER delete any of them. Even when they're negative."

"And a trolling review?"

"A _trolling_ review is one that basically says, _This is crap,_ and then moves on without ANY further explanation," she laughs bitterly. "It doesn't help the writing. It doesn't provide good feedback for the writer. _ANY_ kind of content creator on the internet will tell you the same: All trolling does is _discourage us from creating._ It's just straight-up negativity, and that helps no one."

The Author sighs, leaning back into the couch cushions and shaking her head. "You know something, though?" she says quietly, "The trolling—I've gotten a couple weird reviews, but I can't believe that we got all the way to chapter _forty-one_ before the first review telling me my stuff was crap showed up. In that way, I'm really super surprised. I mean, the people on here—this site—they're _fantastic."_

She thoughtfully stares at the end of her pencil, twisting it and twisting between her pointer fingers. You raise your eyebrows.

"The fans mean a lot to you… don't they?" you ask.

She nods, biting her lip and staring into her lap. After a few moments, The Author lets out a bitter bark of laughter, shaking her head.

"They probably mean way too _much_ to me," she admits. "Even the one that trolled me on the last chapter. I mean—that's one of the main reasons I can justify doing this fanfic. If people are enjoying it—like, even random teenagers I'll never meet—then I at _least_ know that I'm making somebody happy. You know?"

She sighs, and begins to get up from the couch. You follow suit, and she flips the notebook open again, pulling the pencil from her hair.

"Speaking of the story," she says, "It's probably high time that I actually get BACK to it. I mean—I have a favorite chapter coming up pretty quickly, here."

"Favorite chapter?"

"Let's just say that I'm moving the plot forward, while diving into another backstory that stays true to the character presented in the movie, _and_ indirectly tackling some serious social issues, while placing _Rise of the Guardians_ into a historically accurate context," The Author grins. "You know—just expanding on a really great character that doesn't get a ton of screen time. I cover it a lot quicker—like, no flashbacks or anything—but Jack's backstory _pales_ in comparison to what I've figured out for _this_ character. And the others, but we don't get into _their_ backstories for a long while, so this one is sort-of a sneak peek for the _kind_ of stuff I've got coming up later."

"And you're still specifically interpreting the _movie—_ not the _books,"_ you ask, "Um—right?"

"OH, yeah. THAT'S for sure. We've got about three more chapters before we get to this one I'm so excited about, but I'll even give you a _hint_ ," the girl giggles, shooting you a quick wink as she touches her pencil to the paper. "It's titled: _Sand._ Thanks for dropping in!"

 _CRASH!_

 _._

.

The Author turned around to Jack and Elsa again. Seeing her walking towards them, Elsa put her hands on Jack's chest, gently pushing him away. He quickly snuck another kiss, before reluctantly letting Elsa go and taking a step back.

He turned back to the girl with the notebook. "What's with the _crashing?"_ Jack asked.

" _Hey!"_ The Author retorted, "If _you_ can think of a better _'changing from past tense third person to present tense second person'_ sound, then be my guest. Not to mention—OOO! I just thought of another PUN!"

"Oh, you gotta be _kidding_ m—"

"—The _CRASHING,"_ The Author declared, "Was the sound of ME— _BREAKING the fourth wall!"_

Ba-DUM, _ktch!_

"Isn't that a theater term?" Jack sighed.

" _Yeaaaaaaah_ , yeah, yeah; watch me not care, Frosty."

"So, what happens now?" Elsa asked hesitantly.

"Oh… right," The Author sighed. "Yeah, you go back to where you were before, I fix everything to be exactly the way it was, I wipe your memories, and I leave. It'll be like none of this ever happened."

Elsa looked down, her face filled with disappointment as she forlornly glanced towards Jack.

"Like this never happened," she echoed sadly, gently running her hand over her opposite wrist.

Jack sighed. "There's really no other way?"

"Not that I can think of. Not that makes sense with the plot."

They sighed, walking slowly over to the bench and sitting down again as the girl scribbled in the notebook, the couch turning into a hard wooden chair, the food disappearing, the books of records flipping themselves open again.

Jack and Elsa sat down, and Jack put his arms around her waist again, disappointed that he couldn't do anything more. He then looked back to The Author, nodding.

She pulled in a deep breath, writing something down and snapping the notebook shut.

A few moments passed in silence.

"Uhhh," The Author started slowly, "Did… did it work?"

The pale couple jolted, whirling around on the bench with shock.

"Who are _you?"_ Elsa gasped.

"Whoo-HOO!" The Author exclaimed. "It DID work! YES!"

"Wait, _what?"_

"In a moment, you won't remember, dawling. But, in the mean time," the girl giggled, "I am… nothing more than a _figment_ of your imagination."

Looks of confusion and shock swept across Jack and Elsa's faces. The girl shook her head and shrugged.

"It was _fantabulous_ meeting you both," she grinned, writing something down in the notebook. "But, I think we should _really_ get back to the story now. _Toodles!"_

 _POOF!_

And The Author was gone.

.

.

 **And, in conclusion, despite the trolling, this "satire" outtake chapter was weirdly fun to write. As a general rule, I don't take requests. We get back to the story in the next chapter. See ya in "Once a Shepherd," folks! :)**


	43. Once a Shepherd

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Thank you thank you THANK YOU for everyone that's given me** **reviews! Especially on the last chapter-yeah, I really needed that. Despite the fact that some people didn't really get that it was a SATIRE (simplified definition: A JOKE), I was overwhelmed by the support. As I expected, the Fan/Troll that inspired it** _ **didn't mean to troll me at all**_ **, and even wrote a lovely note to apologize. His name is Adam, and he is nice. Say hello, Adam!**

 **ADAM: Uh… hello?**

 **Thank you!** **See? And we're ALL FRANDS AGAN. (Thanks for NOT being a troll, Adam! And, I'm sure you're not an idiot, even though you said so in your LOVELY apology.) ;)**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo, as usual**

 **.**

 **.**

 **43: ONCE A SHEPHERD**

It was a bit more difficult to work, with Jack's arm around her waist as they sat side-by-side on the bench, but Elsa quickly found that a strange comfort accompanied his touch. Every once in a while, feeling the chill of his arm shifting on her back, she would jolt, remembering who she was sitting with. Even through the fabric of his dark blue shirt, Jack was ice cold.

Not that the cold had ever bothered her.

After three hundred years, he _needed_ to touch someone. Of course, Elsa knew that she didn't _owe_ Jack anything, and she _certainly_ wasn't obligated to let him touch her. If she didn't sort of like it, she wouldn't have let him stay so close to her at all. But, enjoying the strange new feeling as she did, Elsa was _more_ than happy to sit and study with Jack's arm around her waist, if it apparently meant so much to him. Showing any kind of affection out of pity was a horrible idea, but Elsa didn't _pity_ Jack. No—no, it wasn't like that, at all. Frankly, she admired him more than she was ready to admit, and—as his friend—she wanted to make sure that he knew ( _really_ knew) that someone was there, and someone believed in him, and would never stop believing in him again. After all, that kind of thing was the whole _point_ of friendship—right? Making the other person happy?

Friendship felt absolutely _wonderful_.

Elsa snuck another glance at the pale young man beside her on the bench as she turned a page of the record. Jack was right—the criminal cases, as opposed to the family cases, _were_ infinitely more promising, despite the fact that they still hadn't found any directly relevant law references. Yes: a reform was definitely in order. Just another thing on Queen Elsa's increasingly-long Political To-Do List. And, without Jack, she wouldn't have even been aware that the problem existed.

Elsa felt his right arm move off of her stomach, his left giving her a slight squeeze as he reached and turned a page of his own volume. Sensing him turning to look at her, she quickly glanced back to the court record in front of her, fighting the blood rising to her face. Why hadn't he said anything about these records earlier? She would have been looking in the entirely wrong place. And who _knows_ for how much longer.

He had to be brilliant, too?

Her heart leapt again as Jack silently wrapped his other arm back around her waist, pulling her up next to him on the bench again. It was a little harder to work this way, but if all she could offer him was the chance to touch someone—well.

Small sacrifice.

"What are you thinking, Elsa?"

She jolted. Nervously turning and looking to him—her face only a few inches from his own—Elsa shifted, suddenly aware of how close he was to her.

How very. _Very_. Close to her.

"I—um," she stammered, looking up, "I was just thinking—the snowball fight…?"

Her voice trailed off. A look of concern swept across Jack's face, and he loosened his grip slightly.

"What about it?" he asked.

Elsa looked down, Jack's arm still on her waist. Shifting on the bench and drawing his hand across her back, he then turned around to face her. As he slid his hand down her arm, interlacing his fingers with hers, Elsa gulped her heart back down and forced herself to look into his eyes.

"Um—I—rules," she blurted. "I think we should establish some rules. You know, for future ones. So we won't—uh—"

"—Kill each other?"

"Right."

Jack laughed, giving her hand a squeeze. Seeing his smile, Elsa relaxed slightly on the bench, shaking her head.

"I mean," she added quickly, "If—if you were _wanting_ to ever have another snowball fight."

" _Who_ are you talking to?"

Elsa said nothing, shrugging slightly as more blood rushed to her face. Suddenly, Jack's eyes were right next to her own, and she jolted.

"I sup-p-pose that was a kind of silly qu-question," she choked.

"Of _course_ I want to have more snowball fights," he whispered. "And, it's probably a good idea to establish some rules. I mean—most of the people I've had snowball fights with in the past aren't forming the snow _as they throw_ it."

Jack straightened up again, letting go of her hand and standing up. "And besides," he laughed, shoving his volume of court records into the center of the table, " _I_ think it's time for another break, anyway. My brain is melting from reading these conversations."

Elsa nodded. It _was_ getting a bit exhausting.

"So," she said, getting onto her feet as well, "We're going to make this official?"

"I don't see why not."

She turned and began to walk away from the table, going for one of the long aisles of bookcases. Jack snatched up his staff, following after her.

"Where are we going, Elsa?"

"After seven months or so as Queen, I've long-since learned that if it _isn't written_ , it _didn't happen_ ," Elsa said matter-of-factly. "And I believe we need some parchment."

.

.

"And no icicles."

" _Definitely_ not."

Back at the table, the quill scratched quickly across the sheet of parchment as Jack scribbled down another rule. He paused at the end of the line, brushing the quill's feather against his chin as he thoughtfully looked up, raising an eyebrow and turning to Elsa again.

"And, no hailstones, of course," he offered.

"That's probably for the best."

"How do you feel about height?"

A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face. She shifted on the bench. "Height?"

"You know," Jack said, "Uh—like, how far could I drop you, without you hurting anything?"

"Oh."

Elsa placed her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her fists and biting her lip in thought. Shrugging, she then looked back to him.

"The snow will always cushion it and everything," she said softly, "But—well, I suppose it probably shouldn't really ever be more than ten feet or so."

"That much?"

Elsa laughed, raising her eyebrows and looking to him. "Why are you so worried?"

He bit his lip, color rising to his cheeks. Hiding it, Jack let out a nervous laugh, picking up the quill and beginning to write down the new rule. "Let's just—let's just say that I have invested interest in your _not_ dying," he chuckled.

As he finished jotting it down, Jack looked back to Elsa and peered up at her through his eyelashes, a flirtatious little hint of a smile twitching out of the side of his mouth.

Elsa froze.

Snapping back into focus, she gave her head a vigorous shake, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and looking down. Clearing her throat, she pulled in a shaky breath.

"And—um," she choked, pointing to the piece of parchment, "And—and no pinning anybody down."

Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter, shaking his head and starting to write it down. "What, _no?"_ he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Gee, I thought you _liked_ that, Snowflake!"

"Well, _yeah,_ but—!"

Elsa abruptly sucked in her breath, cutting herself off. She looked down at the table again, clasping her hands together and trying to not notice the eager little smile spreading across his face.

"Did you just say… what I think you just said?" Jack breathed.

"No."

He dropped the quill, leaning forward onto his elbow and resting his chin on his fist.

"You said you liked it," he chuckled.

"No, I—no, I didn't," she stammered desperately, shying away from him on the bench, "So, we need to make a rule against it. Write that down."

Jack's smile melted into a smirk.

"You. _Liked_ it," he enunciated, raising a single eyebrow.

Elsa's throat tightened. "That is _not_ what I—"

"—You _liiiiiiiked_ it!"

Jack playfully wagged the quill's feather in her face, a teasing smile on the edge of his mouth. Elsa groaned in frustration, turning away from him and pushing herself up from the bench.

"I. Did. _Not,"_ Elsa insisted. "And—and besides. It isn't _proper."_

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"With all due respect," he laughed softly, "I'm pretty sure that we passed _proper_ a long time ago."

"Will you just write it down, already?"

Elsa drew herself up, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him her best Royal Glare. After a few moments, Jack shook his head, picking up the quill again and turning back to the list of rules.

" _And no—pinning—anybody—down,"_ Jack muttered, reading aloud as the quill scratched across the parchment.

Elsa nodded curtly, her face grave as he looked up, raising his eyebrows in question. Staring intently into her eyes, Jack then pulled in a long, dramatic breath.

With Elsa watching in confusion, his face suddenly cracked into a mischievous grin, and Jack's head fell back down, the quill flying across the parchment in a frenzy of furious scribbling.

" _ExceptForElsaBecauseSheENJOYSBeing—"_

 _"—GIVE me that!"_

Elsa leapt forward, snatching the piece of parchment out of Jack's hands. Fighting the heat rushing to her face as he burst out laughing, she bit down hard on her lip, pulling the quill from his grip and turning away. She looked at the list.

"And your handwriting is _atrocious,"_ Elsa stammered angrily, looking for any excuse to change the subject. "What, were you raised in a _barn?"_

Jack paused, raising his eyebrows. Then, letting out his breath, he turned and picked up his shepherd's crook, holding it up. He looked back to Elsa.

" _Yes_ ssssss?" Jack chuckled, twirling the shepherd's crook between his fingers.

Elsa felt heat rushing to her face.

Oops.

"And, how about you? Your _majesty?"_ Jack teased, a slight smirk on the edge of his mouth. "Were _you_ raised in a barn?"

She bit her lip, sheepishly looking down and fidgeting with her fingers.

"I was raised in a castle," Elsa muttered.

"Well, there you go."

Drawing herself up, Elsa silently walked around the table, pulling out one of the wooden chairs across from him and pulling open one of the volumes of records. Wishing the she could disappear, or perhaps crawl into a hole, she sat down.

"If the class difference bothers you so much, then you should probably get a tighter grip on your security," Jack chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Because—well, my _Queen,_ as of right _now,_ it appears that they'll let _any_ old riff-raff into this place."

He winked, twirling the shepherd's crook on his fingers again. With Elsa watching in embarrassment, he then dropped it resolutely onto the table between them with a clatter.

"Jack—you _know_ that class doesn't matter to me," Elsa choked, "And, besides. It doesn't _count_ when the guards can't physically see you."

He let out a sharp bark of laughter, leaning across the table and snatching up the staff again. As he flipped over into the air, hovering in front of her while she determinately stared at the volume of court records, he tossed it to himself.

"Class doesn't matter, eh?" he laughed, flipping over again and touching down on the ground beside her as Elsa pushed herself out of the chair. "That's good to know. Because, I tell you, this castle is already getting downright boring."

"Is that so?"

"Maybe I could take you out again, sometime. You know, show you a slightly less sterilized world?"

"I don't know if that'd be such a good idea," Elsa admitted sheepishly. "Growing up in my room—I don't have much of an immune system. I mean, I never had a chance to develop one."

He shrugged. "We can fix that."

"I'm an adult now. It's different," she sighed. "I'd never even _had_ a cold, before last summer. And now, if I'm not _really_ careful, I get sick from the drop of a hat."

"Those darned infectious headpieces."

"I wish I were joking."

Jack laughed, shaking his head as Elsa turned around, closing the volume on the table. After a few moments, he took a step towards her, leaning around and looking into her eyes.

"It's a big world out there, Snowflake," he said quietly. "And I'm not talking politics. I mean, forests, and animals, and _kinds_ of people you might never really interact with. And _trust_ me," he added, right as Elsa opened her mouth to protest, "You _can't_ see it all from the window of a royal carriage. I—I could show you. I mean, if you let me."

Elsa fell silent. Taking her hand back from the book, she fidgeted with her fingers, then hesitantly looking into his gaze.

His eyes were so kind…

"I—that—um," she whispered, "That—sounds really nice. Actually."

To this, Jack smiled. "Maybe a former shepherd boy could teach you a few things," he said quietly.

He reached forward, starting to take her hand again. Jolting, Elsa pulled it away, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Oh, come _ON!"_ Jack sputtered, his face flushing, "You _know_ it's true, Snowflake!"

She giggled, turning to the table and heaving the volume of court records into her arms. "Jack—"

"As much as you have to teach me about politics, I could teach _you_ about—oh, I don't know," he retorted, "Let's see—everything _else?_ "

Elsa paused, slowly turning to him and raising an eyebrow. "Like, how to fling propriety out the window?"

He blushed. "Not really what I was thinking."

"Oh! Breaking and entering, then!"

" _Wow_."

Laughing, she then whirled back away from him, walking across the carpet to the bookshelf. On the ground by the old ladder, a now-short column of ice waited for its new load, and she swung the volume onto it. Taking a few steps back and pretending to not notice that Jack had followed her over, Elsa set her feet, preparing to raise the pillar of ice into the air. She pulled in a deep breath.

Ignoring Jack, and not noticing that he was silently moving the hook of his staff around her middle, Elsa began to slowly raise her arms.

 _YANK._

 _"EEK!"_

Something hard had suddenly jerked her back by her waist, and Elsa shrieked, tripping over her capelet and plummeting backwards. Before she knew what was happening, Jack caught her out of the shepherd's crook and whirled her body around, swinging the staff behind her. Catching the end of it with his other hand, he then jerked it forward, a tiny squeak escaping Elsa's lips as she lurched towards him, slamming into Jack's chest.

Helplessly trapped against him, Elsa gasped for breath and struggled to gather her senses. Looking down, she realized that she was hanging on for dear life to two white-knuckled fistfuls of navy blue fabric.

Blushing furiously, Elsa pulled in a long breath, willing herself to shakily let go of Jack's shirt. He raised his eyebrows, the flirtatious little smile twitching out of the side of his mouth again as she regained her footing.

"I could teach you how to use a shepherd's crook," he offered casually.

Elsa's breath caught, paralyzed as he peered at her through his eyelashes. Jack Frost's intelligent, snowflake-marked gaze was playful now, and she could feel him shift on his feet, readjusting his grip on the staff as he teasingly held her against him. Breaking eye contact, Elsa nervously looked down, her heart pounding as she found herself staring at the sparkling web of ice crystals on his shirt.

 _Whoa._

"I—I'm p-pretty sure that's not how you usually use one," Elsa choked.

Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter, shaking his head and shrugging. "Can't question the effectiveness, though," he laughed.

More heat rushing to her face, Elsa let out a nervous, breathy giggle. She looked up into his eyes again, and for the first time, she noticed that Jack was about two inches taller than she was.

And he was currently making the most of it.

Elsa opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Giving her head a quick little shake, she pulled in a deep breath and tried again.

"Could—um," she squeaked, "Could—could you let me go now?"

Jack jolted and abruptly did so, releasing one end of the staff. As the staff swung to the side, breaking the circle that had held her against him, Elsa brushed herself off, straightening her dress as Jack backed away with his hands in the air.

"You—you have to admit, though," Jack laughed nervously, "I'm pretty good with a shepherd's crook. Right?"

"Yes, I'll grant you that."

Jack smiled sheepishly, a little blood rushing to his face as Elsa turned around, setting her feet and getting ready to raise the book on the pillar of ice again.

"Once a shepherd, always a shepherd, Snowflake," he said, walking up next to her. "In all those years of research, you never realized you were studying a peasant?"

Elsa paused. Lowering her arms and turning from the book, she looked back at him. "I don't see you that way," she said softly.

"What's wrong with being a peasant?" Jack demanded suddenly.

"Nothing!" she blurted. "I just—I—!"

He raised his eyebrows, staring at her expectantly. Elsa bit her lip, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't like— _classifying_ people." Elsa sighed. "I guess I just—well, I've had enough experience with the upper class to know that being in a certain _class_ doesn't make a person—?"

Her voice trailed off as she searched for a word.

"Classy?" Jack offered.

"Right." Elsa shook her head. "I mean, take Kristoff. He sells ice, for a living. In this kingdom, that places him very _firmly_ into the lower middle class. And he's one of the most incredible men I've ever known."

"Who then married a princess." Jack raised his eyebrows. "Who was previously engaged to—uh, an upper-class sociopath?"

Elsa grimaced, laughing bitterly. "That's a good description for him," she said. "Let's just say I'd take the Ice Man _any_ day."

"No kidding."

She laughed bitterly again. "That's what I mean, though. Money, brains, talent… I mean, even _name_ ," she said softly. "From what I've seen, it isn't what you're _born_ with, that determines who you are. It's what you _do_ with it."

He nodded slowly.

"Um," Jack added hesitantly, "Can—can we include _cursed_ with?"

"Of course."

He exhaled, his face relaxing slightly. After a few moments, Elsa drew herself up again.

"Jack… can I ask you a personal question?"

He paused, looking to her in slight surprise. "Um… yeah," Jack shrugged, "Sure. What is it?"

"What's the hardest you've ever gone?"

Elsa crossed her arms tighter over her chest. A look of confusion swept over Jack's face.

"Hardest I've ever gone?" he asked, "What do you mean?"

"Um—with your powers. The snowball fight. It reminded me," she admitted. "Like—have you ever tried to use your powers to— _hurt_ someone? Intentionally?"

His face went pale.

Jack bit his lip, staring at the ground for a moment and kicking at the carpet. Then, after a few moments, he gripped the staff, drawing himself up on it and pulling in a long breath.

Elsa's breath caught as Jack Frost stared directly into her eyes.

"Yes."


	44. The Roots of Fear

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **First off... I thought I'd made it fairly clear in the satire chapter but… um… okay, guys, seriously, I don't take requests. It's not that I don't think you have _wonderful_ ideas, but it's because—well—honestly, I probably already have it planned out. The plot still (GAAAURGH!) hasn't really started yet. Please just stay with me, everybody, we've got a LOT of ground to cover, here! ;)**

 **Secondly, six months ago today, I did something TERRIFYING and INSANE, that I NEVER saw myself doing: I _got a fanfiction account,_ and starting posting some stuff. I have been OVERWHELMED with the love and support I've received. This isn't my favorite chapter, but to celebrate, I'm doing something that is even MORE terrifying and insane to me: As of NOW, a Sneak Peek preview clip of the first 45 seconds of "Broken, Jagged Edges" is on YouTube. I'll tell you more at the end of the chapter. **

**Thanks for reading, thanks for the WONDERFUL and fantastic reviews, you guys are the BEST, and have an AWESOME day! :D**

 **.**

 **.**

 **44: THE ROOTS OF FEAR**

Elsa's heart started pounding as she stared at him, his face suddenly filled with pain as he leaned onto the staff. Shaking his head, Jack took in another deep breath.

"It was self-defense," he stammered, "I mean—it—my friends were threatened, and—well—and this guy—!"

Elsa's eyebrows lifted slightly. She backed up a few steps, bumping into the ice piano bench and sitting down.

Jack bit his lip.

"Okay," Jack admitted quietly. "It really wasn't self-defense. I mean—he hadn't really gone for _me_ yet, but I assumed he would. So I attacked."

"What happened?"

Jack gulped, looking down. Pulling in his breath again, he shakily walked over, joining her on the bench and resting his elbows on his knees. Elsa suddenly found herself noticing that he _wasn't_ trying to touch her.

Her heart started pounding.

"It was last March. Two incidents. Same person, though," he admitted. "This—um— _person—_ had killed one of my best friends. In front of me."

" _No!"_

"Yeah. _Not_ a nice guy." Jack shook his head, looking down at the floor and shifting his fingers on the staff. "Anyway, I gave him everything I had. I froze all of his—uh— _weapons_ —and threw them back at him."

Elsa shifted towards him an inch on the bench. The muscles in his back tensed, and she paused, leaning forward slightly to try to see his face.

He couldn't look at her.

"Did it work?" she whispered.

"The first time, yes. Not so much, after that." Jack bit his lip, nervously glancing towards Elsa's feet. "By that time, he'd reverse-engineered my strategy. Traced it down to its root and used it again me—it was like I just gave him another weapon."

A wave of confusion swept over Elsa's face.

"Um—fear. This person. His weapon was fear," Jack explained quietly. "And when I attacked with him with anger—well, every motivation can be traced to its roots. Anger stems from fear. I mean, all anger really _is_ is fear, mixed with passion."

Elsa bit her lip, letting out a nervous laugh. She shifted on the bench. "That can't be true."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Uh… no?"

"Well—of course not!"

A hint of a grin tugged at the edge of his mouth. "With all due respect," he said quietly, chuckling bitterly under his breath, "I—um, I know fear pretty well _,_ Snowflake. I mean—I'm a _Guardian_. I have to. What do you think I'm guarding kids _from?"_

"But that definition of fear," Elsa countered, "It's—it's too— _simple!_ "

"So, it can't be true?" Spinning around on the bench, he turned and looked at her. "Alrighty, Snowflake. Game on. Think of a time when you were _really_ angry at someone."

"Jack, I try _not_ to let myself get angry," she retorted. "I mean—I can't _afford_ to get angry at people. I loose control."

"Which implies that you _have_ been angry before, at least once." Jack raised his eyebrows, reaching for her hand again. "Example… a couple minutes ago?"

Elsa thought of this for a moment. Jack grinned mischievously, glancing across the table at the sheet of parchment.

She gasped, pulling her hand away from him. "You were being _obnoxious!"_

"Yeah, and you got ticked off," he chuckled, scooting towards her on the bench. "Anger. Why were you angry?"

Elsa moved another inch away. "I—you were saying that—well, frankly, I just didn't like what you were _implying!"_

Scoot.

"That you _have_ a gender," Jack scoffed, grinning slyly and inching towards her again. "Because _acknowledging_ that would be—bad?"

Scoot.

"In _that_ context, _yes!"_

Scoot.

"Why?"

Scoot.

"Because it's _not proper!"_

Scoot.

"Who cares?"

Scoot.

" _I_ do!"

Scoot.

"Why does it matter to you?"

Elsa tried to scoot back on the bench again, only to gasp, barely catching herself before she fell off its end. Groaning in frustration, she shook her head, ignoring Jack's silent laughter and getting onto her feet.

" _Because_ ," she said sternly, "I _don't want anyone to think_ that I would be _that_ flighty and—"

"— _Fear!"_

Elsa froze. His eyebrow raised, Jack sat up a little taller on the bench, staring intently into her eyes.

"There it is," he said softly. "The fear. _Right_. _There_. You were angry, because you were afraid that someone might think you were—"

"—Don't say it."

A sly little grin tugged at the edge of Jack's mouth as he saw Elsa's blushing. He shook his head.

"I hate to break it to you, Elsa," he chuckled, "But—uh—you're a girl. I mean, you _know_ that. Right?"

"You're not supposed to be _reminding_ me of it every ten seconds!"

Jack leaned forward onto his elbow, peering up into her face through his eyelashes. "You know," he teased, "At _some_ point, you're going to stop running away from it, and actually _embrace_ the whole sexuality thing."

"Well, don't hold your breath."

"From what I've heard, one usually doesn't."

" _You—!"_

"—THERE! _Right there!"_ Jack interrupted triumphantly, uncrossing his legs and leaping up onto the table, " _Anger!_ Why are you angry?"

Elsa's breath caught. She then set her jaw, feeling more blood rushing to her face in embarrassment.

 _Wow_ , had she fallen for that one.

"I just—I—oh, I don't know!" she stammered desperately, "I—I _don't like_ that kind of humor, okay?"

"Why not?"

"Well—what if you got the wrong idea?" she blurted, "I mean—our friendship! If something went sour—"

"So, we're back to fear again."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "That doesn't count as another example. I was mad at you for the _same reason."_

"So, name another."

"Alright," Elsa retorted, her mind racing as she desperately tried to think of a reason to change the subject, "I—I got mad at Anna when she told me she had gotten engaged to someone she'd just met. Last July."

To this, Jack's eyes bulged. After a few moments, he then grinned, shaking his head. "Anna got engaged to a guy she'd just _met?"_ he chuckled. "Why does that _not_ surprise me?"

"I know, right?" Elsa rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "And, of course, he turned out to be a total sociopath. I tried to warn her about it, but then she got upset, and she grabbed my glove, and I freaked out because I didn't know if I could conceal my ice powers without it, and—"

"—Oh, look! Fear again!"

Elsa stopped.

Her eyes wide, she stared at the ground, twisting her heel into the carpet as Jack effortlessly leapt down from the table, flying through the air and landing in front of her.

"It's either fear or love, Snowflake," he said quietly. "Everything stems from one of 'em."

She slowly looked up into his face again, his usually piercing blue eyes now soft with sadness again. Jack paused, closing his eyes and pulling in his breath slowly again.

"So," Elsa said carefully, "This—person—?"

"Yeah," Jack sighed. "My attacking him with anger—it worked the first time, because it caught him off guard. But once he'd traced my motivation back to its roots—my fear was exposed, and he could exploit it." Jack laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "My furious nightmare-freezing thing—this guy—well, let's just say that little _trick_ didn't work on him anymore."

 _Nightmare-freezing thing?_ Elsa thought. She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but—seeing the pain in Jack's face—decided against it.

Whatever it was, this memory was hurting him.

"You _can't conquer fear with anger_ ," Jack choked. "The best anger can do is delay it for a little while. I mean—if anger _stems_ from fear, it can never totally overtake it. Only love can do that."

Jack bit his lip, readjusting his grip on the staff. After a few moments of silence, he took in a quick breath.

"Look, I _know_ it sounds corny—"

"—No, I—I believe it," Elsa blurted. "I learned the same thing."

Jack raised his eyebrows. She looked down, twisting her heel nervously into the carpet.

"When I—when I reacted out of fear. I mean," Elsa admitted. "I lost. Frankly, I almost destroyed Arendelle. It was only when I responded to things with love that I got control."

"What do you mean?"

"After I got my powers under control—after I figured out my center, I suppose," she said softly, bringing a weak smile from Jack, "I—I made a decision out of anger. Even though I knew I shouldn't have. And I've never done it again since. At least—I've tried not to."

Jack gestured back to the bench, saying nothing. Elsa nodded, following him over and sitting down again.

"Back right after my coronation," she started quietly, "There was—um—a duke—that tried to have me killed. He sent two of his attendants to do it. They broke into my ice palace and—well, and they cornered me on the top floor."

Jack's mouth fell open. " _Cornered_ you?" he gasped, " _Two against one?"_

Elsa smiled weakly. "Two against one— _with ice powers._ "

His face relaxed. "Ah. Well, then."

Her smile faded again, and she looked back up into his eyes. "Anyway," she sighed, "I easily defended myself. They only captured me when I stopped—I guess _one_ good thing came out of the sociopath. It _was_ self-defense, but I was almost a murderer anyway. But when I got back to Arendelle, I was still really angry about what had happened. So I cut off all trade with Weaseltown."

"Well, they deserved it—"

"—No—I mean, I _know_ they deserved it, but—that's the thing. My point," she stammered. "I—I made a _decision_ out of anger. I wanted to punish them. Not just stop their abuse of power, not just to protect Arendelle or myself—I wanted to make them hurt."

Jack was silent. Elsa pulled in another pained breath, squeezing her eyes shut.

"The people of Weaseltown— _they_ were the ones who really got punished. Not the duke. Not the men that tried to kill me," she choked. "And I've had a lot of months to think about my decision. I—I regret it."

Jack stuck his hand in his pocket, feeling the edge of it with his thumb.

"So," he whispered, "If you could go back…?"

Elsa shook her head. "No. I would _definitely_ not cut off the trade," she said fervently. "I mean, cut off the duke and his cronies? Oh, yes. I would _definitely_ rewrite the trade agreements so that they, _personally_ , wouldn't be allowed to ever set foot in Arendelle again, or frankly, _get_ anything from the agreement. But I wouldn't punish all the people of Weaseltown."

The silence fell over the room again.

Looking back to him, Elsa fidgeted with her fingers, pulling in a deep breath.

"Jack… are you familiar with _Henry V?"_

Jack paused. After a few moments, he raised a single eyebrow.

"Uh," he started carefully, "Like... _personally,_ or…?"

"No! The _play!"_

He laughed, shaking his head as a little color rose to his cheeks. "Just making sure. Because—um," he chuckled, leaning forward a bit as he looked up into her eyes, "I'm not— _that_ —old, Snowflake!"

Elsa giggled, seeing his expression. "Then, you're basically familiar with the plot and everything, right?"

"Oh, yeah," he laughed. "I actually saw part of it. In the Globe."

" _You saw_ Henry V _in the Globe Theater?!"_ Elsa sputtered. " _The Lord Chamberlain's Men?_ Seriously? _"_

"Well, it was _The_ _King's Men_ by that point, but—"

"— _What else did you see?"_ Elsa interrupted. "That must have been _amazing!"_

Jack grinned, rocking back slightly on the bench and crossing his legs. "Well," he started, letting the staff fall back onto his shoulder and counting on his fingers, "From what I recall, I saw chunks of _King Henry V, As You Like It, A Midsummer Night's Dream,_ and… well, and of course, _Romeo and Juliet."_

A sly little grin twitched out of the side of his mouth as he said the final title, and Jack glanced up towards her again, shooting her a quick wink.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

"You're—um," she choked, "You're flirting at me again, aren't you?"

To this, Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter, catching the shepherd's crook forward into his hands and spinning it on the ground. "Well, I don't know, Snowflake," he chuckled, "Is it working?"

Elsa blinked.

"Um," she said slowly, "Romeo drinks poison… and Juliet stabs herself."

"I'll take that as a no."

To this, Elsa grinned, rolling her eyes. Jack shrugged.

"As for _Henry V,_ though—I only saw a chunk of it," he admitted. "I mean, when the theater was being built, I—um—I messed with them a bit. I mean, it wasn't _much_ of a blizzard, but I felt kind of bad for the guy afterwards, so I'd stop back in every few years to see how his plays were—"

"—YOU SNOWED OUT _WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE?!"_

Jack opened his mouth to say something, and then looked down, shutting it again with a nervous laugh. The tips of his ears turning pink, he shifted his fingers on the staff.

"Um…"

" _Un—_ believable."

He blushed harder, shrugging slightly. Elsa shook her head, laughing good-naturedly and walking over to the table, leaning against it as he got onto his feet.

"So… anyway," she sighed, her face smile fading again, "You know that scene where Henry goes out among the troops in disguise? _"_

"Yeah, I vaguely remember it."

"It's iconic."

"It's _been_ a while."

"That argument with the soldier about accountability…" she started softly, "That, if the soldiers are fighting an unjust war, their obedience to the king justifies them so that nothing that happens is their fault?"

He got up, walking towards her. "And ol' Henry disagrees, right?"

"Of course." She laughed bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest. "He naturally doesn't want that much responsibility. But, that's my point. With the whole _Ice Alliance_ thing. I'm sort of in the same position as King Henry. When I make a decision that affects so many people—if something related to that decision goes wrong—whose fault is it? It is mine, for having the power to influence people, or is it the fault of the people themselves, what happens?"

"Wait. I lost you. What does that have to do with the Ice Alliance?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. "We're not going to war, Snowflake."

"But, in a way, we are! The council. I mean— _pranking_ them into resigning? _Seriously?_ "

He fell quiet. After a few moments, Elsa pulled in a deep breath.

"See? This is the worst part about being Queen. _I_ have to call the shots," she choked. "I mean—alright, let's pretend for a minute that we _keep_ my council the way it is. "

"Well, that sounds awful."

"Stay with me, please," she begged. " _Here's_ the problem. They don't like change, and if I keep them, they aren't likely to _allow_ more reforms to go through. If I _can't_ get them on board with these law reforms, if I _can't_ get them passed, for every child that gets hurt—because I _didn't_ out the council—who is really to blame?"

Jack's eyes bulged.

"The _criminals!_ " he sputtered. "Elsa—you _can't—"_

"—But _I'm_ supposed to be working to _stop_ them!" she countered, "I mean— _Jack—_ now that I'm _aware_ of the problem—if I don't DO something about it, any more crimes that are committed there are partially my fault!"

"But they're _not!"_ Jack protested. "You _can't_ take responsibility for that—"

"—But see, that's the whole _argument!"_ Elsa groaned. "I—I'm accountable, Jack. At least partially. And I can't run away from it."

He looked down, biting his lip. Her face filled with pain, Elsa pulled in a deep breath.

"People always act like the hardest choices are the ones where you have to choose between right and wrong. But they're _not_ ," Elsa sighed. "THOSE ones are easy. The hardest choices to make are those where you're choosing between something bad and something worse, and trying to weigh who will be hurt MORE by each decision."

He was silent. After a few more moments, Elsa shook her head.

"Honestly—that's why I'm so worried about this idea that we're going to spook my councilmembers into resigning," she said softly. "I mean—is this _right?_ To do it this way?"

He looked up into her eyes, his face grave.

"Suddenly, I'm understanding more of why you're so anxious all the time," Jack said slowly.

"My point _exactly_ ," Elsa whispered. "On the one hand, it feels wrong to make them suffer, but if we _don't_ do this—if these reforms _can't_ get through—how many _more_ people will suffer because of it?"

Elsa sighed, turning away from him and starting to walk back over to the table and the volumes of court records. From somewhere behind her, over on the other side of the table, she heard Jack get up from the bench.

"How can you _possibly_ be twenty-one years old?" he breathed.

Elsa paused.

Her face filled with confusion, she hugged her arms tighter to her chest, slowly turning back to face him. His eyes wide with wonder, Jack took a step towards her.

"Elsa… you keep acting like _I'm_ the noble one," he said quietly. "Are you even _listening_ to yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"Who's sounding more like a _Guardian_ here," he whispered, "You or me?"

Elsa froze, her mouth falling slightly open in shock. Before she could respond, Jack smiled sheepishly, walking up to her and taking her hand.

"Seriously, though," he whispered, looking up into her eyes, "If we're moving on the whole _Alliance_ thing tonight, you probably need to be getting to sleep. I mean, if I'll be waking you up at two in the morning."

"We're doing this at _two in the morning?"_

"Do _you_ know a better time for spooking geezers?"

Elsa let out a nervous little laugh, looking down to her hand. He gave it a squeeze, and a jolt rushed through her. His fingers were so cold.

So wonderful.

"I—um," she stammered, glancing back up, "It's kind of funny to hear _you_ say that. Mister Breaking-and-Entering."

He blushed, letting out a nervous laugh and shuffling his feet on the floor.

One of the volumes of court records was still on the icy pedestal over by the bookcase. Elsa turned and pulled her hand from Jack's, starting to walk towards it. Before she could reach it, though, a gust of cold wind rushed past her.

A few seconds later, Jack came back down to snatch up the other book, his staff under his arm as he flew. After placing it carefully back on the shelf, he lit down by Elsa again as she disintegrated the icy column she she'd been using as a book elevator.

"Wait—Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"I—um," Elsa asked, her face curious, "I was wondering—so, if you're waking me up, and everything—do _you_ ever sleep?"

He shrugged. "Like, on average?"

"Sure."

He tossed the staff to himself as Elsa walked over to the table again, disintegrating the icy piano bench. "About four hours or so a night, then," Jack said casually. "So, yeah, but not as much as most people. And I can go a few days without sleeping, if I want to."

"I am _so_ jealous of—wait," Elsa said suddenly, spinning around. "Um—Jack—have you slept recently?"

"Uh…"

His voice trailed off, and Jack looked down, self-consciously sticking his hand into his front pocket.

" _Jaaaaack_ ," Elsa said slowly, "Have you slept _since we've met?"_

"Well—yeah!" he stammered, nervously running his fingers through his hair, "I mean, of course! Sure!"

She raised an eyebrow, for the first time noticing how sunken his eyes were, beginning to go bloodshot around the edges. Jack blushed harder.

"Alright," he muttered, "I—I haven't. But we can still move on the Ice Alliance thi—"

"— _No._ Not tonight," Elsa told him. "You need sleep, too."

"Sleep is for the dead."

"Um—"

"—I'm _undead."_

" _Jaaaaack_ —?"

Elsa raised her eyebrows.

"Fine," Jack sighed. "I can see that you're not going to let up on this. _Tomorrow_ night, though."

"Tomorrow night," Elsa agreed. "Now, come on. Let's get you to bed."

 **.**

 **.**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE (AGAIN): Okay, so a quick word about the DRAFT of "Broken, Jagged Edges" that's up… first, when I say I do a little sound editing, I just say that to clarify that all the instruments are fake (example; I can't actually play guitar or flute, but there's guitar AND flute in it). So, I'm not good enough to edit my voice. The vocal track is worthless, but it's just so you get the idea. And no, I do NOT sound ANYTHING like Idina, who is the Goddess of Song, so… bare with me. I'm just singing with my own voice. Thirdly, I think it needs more bass and piano; let me know what you think. Fourth(ly?), I had to mess with the melodies and rhythms a bit to make this work—you'll hear a difference, I'm sure. The intro gives a little taste of the kind of stuff spread through the song, and I do a lot of weaving melodies together. Fifth, I recommend looking up "Rise of the Guardians Soundtrack Prelude" and giving it a quick listen, before listening to the sneak peek, so you'll recognize bits of the tune. Lastly: Search for "SNEAK PEEK OF DRAFT of "Broken, Jagged Edges" from "Ice Alliance, a Jelsa Fanfic," and you should find it. The channel, of course, is under "Nope Not Telling." Love you all, let me know whatcha think, thanks for reading this chapter (as always), and I hope you have a fantabulous day! :D**


	45. Like a Snowflake

**AUTHOR'S NOTE ( _original, from FIRST part of two chapters that have now been squashed into one)_ : Thank you, SO much, again for reviewing! You really have no idea how much it means to me. To "Frost Fangirl": NO, I most certainly do NOT have the time to read long, thoughtful letters written by adorable people on the internet like you carefully detailing how wonderful I am. I would MUCH rather be spending that one minute putting my face through the monitor trying to figure out why my (GAURGH!) LaTex code isn't compiling for my (GUARGH!) senior thesis and muttering g-rated curse words under my breath. (Seriously, your review made my day. And the next. And the one after that.) To answer your question, I usually try to update about once a week, but sometimes, life happens. Example: a week and a half ago, my college laptop kicked the bucket, and I was without my fanfic files for a week. Thankfully, that morning, I'd had a VERY strong feeling (which I followed) that I needed to send myself the files for Ice Alliance. Hours later, my hard drive was totally destroyed. _I would have lost about 40,000 words of Ice Alliance's future chapters!_ (Call it what you will, but in my religion, I'd proclaim that was the Holy Spirit, because the Lord knows this stupid little project is important to me. Message or email me, and I'll tell ya ALL about it.) ;) To "TaraTolmeny": You have NO idea how much that means to me! The satire chapter's styling was written in more of what I'd call my "normal" voice (read: I am NOT a romance novelist), and your comments have really been encouraging. ;) To "Polar Panda": You are adorable! Thanks so much for the reassurance about the pace… yeah, we'll be speeding up again soon enough. ;)**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Jack, as usual, will be hitting on Elsa with the "Subtlety Dial" set to "Steamroller."**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE ( _original, from SECOND part of two chapters that have now been squashed into one)_ :** **Thanks again to everyone that reviewed! You cannot KNOW how much it means to me. Even though some authors might get annoyed with the reviews that show up a week after the chapter was posted, basically pressuring the author to post faster, I love those too. It's a great reassurance/reminder that people are actually reading this, which I still can't believe. (Seriously, people! Thanks for being here and justifying my secret hobby; you ROCK!) ;)**

 **Also, I was a bit surprised, which is why I grateful for the feedback: it appears that more people want longer chapters, even if they take long to post! (I would NOT have guessed that.) So, longer it is!**

 **And, I'm still working on "Broken, Jagged Edges" and the List of References, which is apparently going to take, oh, I don't know, a few millennia. So, I'm just going to TELLING YOU AS WE GO some of my favorite ones, that I'm hoping people noticed. (DID YOU?!) First of all, remember Grandpabbi's weird little line in the beginning of Frozen, when he asks the king if Elsa was "born with the powers, or cursed?" That line should have a LOT more meaning, now (HINT: Chapter 31, "Some Are Cursed"). ;)**

 **ALSO: There's this absolutely GORGEOUS little one-shot Jelsa piece called "The Unplanned Visitor" by an author with the username "BattyBigSister." I keep going back to it for inspiration, because it packs SUCH a punch in so few words... it will rip your heart out, but it's awesome. I'm giving it a shout-out because of the LEVEL to which it's inspired me to try to be better in my own work. Anyway, if you want to read a short bit of incredible stuff, go and look it up. ("BattyBigSister" probably has no clue who I am - no, she doesn't know I'm doing this shout-out - but yeah. Her writing is awesome, and I couldn't resist.) ;) THANKS FOR READING, and have a fantastic day!**

 **CONTENT WARNING** **: Extreme, extended innuendo. Because Elsa (having spent her adolescence locked up hiding/studying in her room) is... clueless. (Seriously, innuendo-wise, this is AS FAR as I am willing to go!)**

.

 **.**

 **45: LIKE A SNOWFLAKE**

"Elsa, this _really_ isn't necessary."

Elsa smiled in spite of herself, restraining from a laugh as she finished sealing off the thick wall of ice soundproofing her bedroom door. Her usual night guards (who she believed should remain blissfully unaware of the Winter Spirit's presence) now stood at their posts outside the door. On the previous evening, she'd been so traumatized and exhausted from the King Edvin experience that she'd fallen asleep long before they'd come, so the soundproofing hadn't even crossed her mind.

The snow packed well around the door's cracks, Elsa took a step back, brushing her hands together and eying her handiwork. For the third night in a row, she suddenly found herself realizing, she and Jack Frost were once again standing together in her bedroom, sealed in from the outside world by a thick layer of ice.

Alone.

Wait, _what?_

"It would've been different if the guest rooms weren't filled with suitors, and I could've just crashed in one," Jack protested weakly as they walked towards her art gallery, "But this is ridiculous. I can just knock out in a snow bank somewhere."

They went through the open door, and Elsa stomped her foot on the ground, sending swirling spirals of ice shooting across the carpet. Standing in the door frame dividing the rooms, she then raised her arms up into the air, pulling a bed-sized platform of ice out of the floor with a dull creaking.

" _No_ guest of mine is going to be sleeping in a _snowbank,_ " Elsa retorted, walking around the platform and running her hand along its edge. A spiked, elegant headboard of ice sprung up from the end of the platform where she'd touched, and Elsa turned around and took a few steps backwards into her room, inspecting her handiwork. "I mean, come now. You're going to at _least_ have a respectable bed."

Looking up, she saw Jack raise his eyebrows. After a few moments, he shrugged and glanced over her shoulder, gesturing to hers.

"Or, we could share that one," he offered.

Elsa jolted.

 _RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE._

Lowering her hands, she calmly took a step back from the solid wall of ice that now divided her bedroom from the art gallery.

There was a muffled yelling from the other side of the ice.

Rolling her eyes, Elsa stepped forward, raising her hand to the wall. After a few moments of concentration, the frozen particles began to gently lift away from it, layer by layer, floating through the air and into her palm until a small, square window appeared between them.

"What is it?"

Kneeling on the icy bedframe in the next room and peering through the window, Jack grinned. "I _said,"_ he chuckled, "That I liked it _better_ when you just kicked me."

"The _flirting_ …"

"Can I take down the wall?"

Elsa paused. After a few moments, with Jack pleadingly stared at her through his eyelashes through the window, she nodded, taking a step back.

Jack tossed his staff to the side, standing up on the platform and setting his feet, and from what Elsa could see, he was positioning his hands flat on the ice. With a triumphant bark of laughter, Jack Frost then suddenly flipped backwards off the platform, sweeping the ice off of the wall and pulling it into the air after him.

Elsa's breath caught, watching through the tiny window as her wall of ice grew thinner and thinner in front of her, spiraling trails of frost spinning and shooting down through the art gallery. As her wall continued to disintegrate, Jack calmly walked down the corridor, flicking his fingers towards the ribbons of frost and making the ice particles begin to dance and swirl into themselves.

Finally, dozens of floating clusters of snow floating all around him, Jack held up his right hand in the air, his middle finger against his thumb.

SNAP.

 _POP pop CRACK pop pop POW!_

And the snow clusters around him in the gallery collapsed onto themselves and exploded, bursting apart like firecrackers in dozens of tiny explosions of shimmering frost.

Elsa's eyes bulged.

A playful little smile on his lips, the white-haired Spirit of Winter shrugged, casually sticking his hands into his pocket and spinning around to face her. Elsa, paralyzed with shock, stood frozen in the doorway, her mouth hanging open with disbelief.

That wall had been _thick_. And her ice was strong _._ Like— _really_ strong. In fact, from all appearances, Elsa's ice was stronger than—no, than—well, stronger than _one hundred_ men. And Jack had simply _snapped his fingers,_ and— _!_

Whoa.

In her mind's eye, Elsa suddenly found herself in Anna and Kristoff's bedroom again, her brother-in-law staring solemnly into her eyes.

 _That guy is INSANELY powerful._

"You okay, Snowflake?"

Elsa jolted, her eyes snapping back into focus. Jack was suddenly standing right in front of her, on the other side of the icy bedframe.

"I—um!" she stammered, stumbling a step backwards, "I just—sheets. I didn't ever get you, uh, any sheets. Or anything."

"Not a problem," Jack laughed, effortlessly leaping up onto the bedframe and twirling his staff over on his fingers.

 _SWISH._ A burst of ice particles materialized beneath him as he swept the shepherd's crook across the bedframe, a fluffy mound of snow floating down and settling onto it as he pulled up his feet to effortlessly float in the air.

Elsa crossed her arms over her chest. "You _still_ think I'm letting you sleep in a _snowbank?"_ she scoffed. "I'm _the Queen._ You are my _guest._ If my poor deceased mother ever—"

"—Oh, come off it," Jack chuckled, swooping forward and landing on the floor next to her. "You still have the _bed_ part. I'm meeting you halfway."

She bit her lip. Laughing, Jack flipped backwards into the air, collapsing into the mound of snow with a c _runch._ He dramatically sighed, stretching out his arms and folding them behind his head with a grin.

"And besides," he added, turning to look at her, "Snow is _infinitely_ more comfortable than some silly bedsheets."

"I am having a _very_ difficult time believing that."

"Why don't you come over here and see?"

Jack winked, glancing mischievously to the space beside him, and then looking back up into her eyes.

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

"I—I only made that bed for one person," she stammered. "That wouldn't leave you much room."

"We could squeeze." Jack raised a single eyebrow, readjusting himself in the snowbank. "Come on, Snowflake. Don't be shy."

He shot her a flirtatious grin, gently patting the snow beside him. She opened her mouth to say something, and then blushed, abruptly closing it again. Feeling the heat rushing to her face, Elsa then squeezed her eyes shut, pulling in a deep breath.

"If I— _were—_ going to flirt back," she started carefully, "What—what would you expect me to say?"

Jack's eyes widened slightly at the statement. Then, shaking his head, he abruptly sat up in the snowbank, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well," he chuckled, "I guess I—I just figured there'd at least be some witty, and hopefully suggestive, banter or something."

"Like what? What would be an example?"

"Hmm… alrighty." He grinned, jumping off the bed and landing on the carpet again, walking towards her. "I'll go first. Come kiss me."

"No."

Jack let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. He then looked back up into her eyes. "Okay, see, _that's_ where the witty, teasing retort was supposed to go," he chuckled. "But it was a start. I guess."

"You think _that's_ flirting?" she sputtered.

"I'm thinking that I'll take whatever I can get."

Elsa shook her head, and put a hand on her hip. "I'm just trying to figure out what on _earth_ you're expecting me to say."

"Then, let's try that again. Come kiss me."

"You _can't_ be serious."

"You can do better than that. Come kiss me."

"Why should I?"

"A _little_ wittier. Come kiss me."

"Touch me, and I'll have you executed."

Jack jolted.

"Ooooookay," he choked. "A little wittier, and a little less…terrifying?"

"But you're being obnoxious!"

"Flirting is obnoxious by _nature._ That's how it's _supposed to work."_

Elsa blushed, pulling her hands into her stomach and staring at the floor in embarrassment. This was not happening.

This was _not_ happening.

"I—!" Elsa choked suddenly.

Rubbing her opposite elbow with her hand, she abruptly cut herself off, turning away from him and walking towards her dresser. She couldn't do it. Nope. Not even—

 _"EEP!"_

"Sorry," Jack apologized, having suddenly materialized in front of her, "I—you're upset."

She swallowed hard, taking a tiny step back. He was standing in front of her in her bedroom now, having leapt over the bed, and was staring intently into her face. After a few moments of her continued silence, she heard him let out a long sigh.

"How about this," Jack said softly. "Don't try. Alright? _Forget_ about the stupid flirting thing, if it's scaring you."

Elsa bit her lip, looking down to her hands again. Jack leaned in a few inches closer to her, peering up into her face through his white hair, his eyes soft with concern.

"And I can _see_ that it's scaring you," he added. "I _hate_ it when you look scared."

Something was sparkling in Elsa's peripheral vision. She looked up, and realized that a tiny, glowing snowflake was slowly turning in the air above Jack's fingertips.

Elsa bit her lip. "Is that—?"

"—Yeah," he sighed. His eyes soft again, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, letting out a tiny, nervous laugh. "You—um—can I?"

She nodded. Jack flicked his hand towards her, and the snowflake spun and floated through the air, landing on the bridge of her nose.

A beautiful wave of calm swept over her, and Elsa looked up, a nervous smile on the edge of her mouth. As the shimmering in front of her eyes glowed and then faded away, her gaze met Jack's.

He raised his eyebrows. "Better now?"

"I—um—yeah," she stammered. "Thanks."

He smiled, taking a tiny step forward and reaching for her hand. As he took it, Elsa felt a tiny rush of excitement sweep through her body, feeling Jack Frost interlacing his fingers with her own once again.

Jack Frost.

 _Jack_. _FROST_.

"That—that _fun magic_ thing of yours," Elsa suddenly blurted. "I—I have no idea what to call this feeling. It's just—it's really _happy,_ and then it's calm, and—I don't know. But I sort of—love it."

Jack paused, slowly looking up into her face and raising his eyebrows. After a few moments, an excited little grin began to spread across his face.

"Uh… come again, ma'am?" he chuckled.

"Well, I—this _feeling!"_ Elsa stammered, "When you—well, that _thing_ you keep _doing_ to me! I have no idea how to describe what you're making me feel, but I'm just—like, _happy,_ and—like, _really_ happy, through my whole body, and—wait, what's so funny?"

Jack was now buckled over with laughter, his hand clapped over his eyes. Leaning into his staff, and sinking down against it, he shook his head, looking to her. He opened his mouth to speak, and then—after a brief moment of hesitation—blushed furiously, bursting into hysterical laughter again.

Elsa felt her heart jump into her throat.

" _Look_ ," she stammered, "I know it probably sounds weird to you—"

"—Ooooh, there _ain't nothin' weird ABOUT_ it, sweetheart!" Jack gasped, clapping his hand over his mouth and turning away, "I just wasn't expecting to hear THAT come out of your mouth so soon!"

A wave of confusion swept over Elsa's face.

"Hear _what_ come out of my—"

"— _N-Nothing!"_

His ears were bright red as he stood turned away from her, his back shaking violently as he tried in vain to suppress his laughter. Turning around to face her again, he slowly pulled his hand down from his eyes, looking to Elsa in horrified delight.

" _Ooooooh_ ," Jack groaned, shaking his head and grinning from ear to ear as he kneaded his eyebrows, "I have _always_ wanted to know what it'd be like to have a woman say that to me."

"Jack, I don't understa—"

"—Don't worry about it."

"But your _fun magic!"_ she exclaimed, "It—your magic feels _really_ good, okay? I'm trying to _thank_ you! I'm just _happy,_ and then everything feels _wonderful,_ and then—"

Jack was now laughing so hard he was crying.

"Jack—"

"Okay," he interrupted, "Seriously, stop."

"But—"

"—For _your_ sake. _Stop_ ," Jack laughed. "I am enjoying this _way_ too much."

Elsa fell quiet, staring at the ground and fidgeting with her fingers. Blushing furiously, her mind raced as she tried to figure out what was so funny.

Was it something she'd said?

After a few more moments of silence, she felt the embarrassed sadness sweep over her again. Pulling in a deep breath, Elsa looked hesitantly up into his eyes.

"I—I'm sorry," she choked. "The whole—flirting—thing—I've never tried before. And—"

"—Oh my word," Jack scoffed, "Are you trying to _apologize?"_

"But you—"

"—Snowflake, don't _worry_ about me," he retorted, "I'm not going to _die._ You aren't _obligated_ to flirt back. I'm just—hoping that you will. Eventually."

He shot her a sheepish grin, leaning into his staff. Elsa slowly moved her hands down, looking into his eyes.

"So…" she said quietly, "What should I do in the meantime?"

"Just be yourself. Don't worry about it." Jack shrugged. "And, besides. I like who you are when you're just being yourself, anyway."

She glanced back down, giving a tiny nod. Fidgeting with her fingers, Elsa then gestured towards the door of the art gallery and the icy bed on the other side of it.

"So," she started quietly, "Um—the wall?"

Jack chuckled. "Right," he sighed. "We should probably stand on the same side of it if we're going to be talking about the structure, though."

"Probably for the best."

"On three?"

Elsa smiled weakly, stepping forward. Jack joined her, planting his feet solidly on the ice-covered carpet.

"Alrighty… one… _two…!"_

With a long, dull rumbling, they simultaneously raised their arms into the air, pulling a thick wall of ice out of the ground in the doorway. It grew taller and taller in front of them, until it finally hit the top of the frame, sealing itself to the edges with a creaking _thud._

Jack and Elsa lowered their hands, looking to each other in wonder.

After a few moments of silence, Elsa jolted slightly, snapping back into focus.

"I—um," she blurted, "Can I—can I put in a window?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. "A window?"

"So—um," Elsa admitted sheepishly, "If I wake up in the middle of the night, I want to be able to see you. You know—to make sure you're still here?"

"I could also just promise you that I won't leave." He smiled. "Because—um—I have _no_ intention of leaving. But, if it makes you feel better, then, why not?"

Elsa blushed, smiling weakly again herself, and took a step back. Her arms outstretched, she pulled in a deep breath, concentrating on a tiny, square area.

Shimmering ice particles began to loosen from the wall, obediently floating away from its surface and swirling through the air towards her. Her eyes closed, Elsa then let out a happy sigh, gathering the frosty mist into an enormous snowflake above her head. Pulling her hands apart, the snowflake burst, glittering dust falling around her and silently disintegrating into the air before reaching the ground.

Jack tossed his staff into his other hand, walking up to her again. Shaking his head, he looked up, raising his eyebrows and letting the staff fall onto his shoulder.

"Not bad," he whispered.

Elsa smiled shyly, feeling her heart flutter as he stepped up next to her, the air going slightly colder by her arm. Then, just as she was about to open her mouth to say something, Jack reached forward, placing his hand on the small of her back.

Elsa jolted, spinning around and sucking in her breath. Jack abruptly pulled his hand back, letting out a nervous laugh.

" _Sooooo_ ," he said quickly, "Why—why did you build the window like that?"

Elsa looked back to the wall of ice dividing the rooms, and the window she'd melted out of it. It was angled down towards the floor in the direction of the art gallery, and up towards the ceiling in the direction of the bedroom, through the thick ice in front of them.

"Well," she shrugged, "It's—um, it's so that I can see you, but you can't see me."

" _How_ is that fair?"

Elsa blushed.

Taking a step back, she gestured to the window. Jack walked up to it, placing his hand on its sill and closing his eyes.

In a rippling sheet, the ice leapt off of the bottom angled portion of the window, flying into the air and wrapping in upon itself, just like it had earlier that day in the library. And a second later—

 _CRACK!_

And the window was a square block cut from the ice, unangled, as the sheet of frost disintegrated into the air.

"So now, we can _both_ watch each other sleep, if we so desire," Jack laughed. "The question is, is that endearing or creepy?"

"It is _definitely_ creepy."

"Yeah, but—in an endearing way."

Elsa giggled, rolling her eyes. "Alrighty, Mister _Endearing_ ," she whispered. "Fair's fair, and you have your creepy spying window. But you have to _promise_ to leave the rest of that wall of ice in place for the night. You know, if you're going to be staying in my room."

"Technically, I'm in the next room."

"Technically, they're _all_ my rooms."

"Touché."

He walked forward and placed his palm flat on the wall of ice, then looking back to Elsa.

"So," Jack asked, "Are we agreeing on this design? Because—if we are—then I probably need to melt this to get onto the other side."

She nodded. "I suppose that hadn't really occurred to me—"

"—If you still _want_ me sleeping on the other side."

Elsa blushed, laughing softly under her breath and rolling her eyes again. " _Yes."_

"Well, the offer's still open, if you ever change your mind."

"You'll be the first to know."

They both stepped up to the wall, raising their arms.

Frost and snow swirled and spiraled through the bedroom, the wall growing thinner and thinner as Jack and Elsa pulled the layers of ice back, some ice particles floating away in calm procession, some leaping from the wall and whirling into the air as Jack leapt backwards, away from Elsa. Moonlight pouring in through the window caught the frost as it flew, reflecting off the ice particles' tiny, prism-like structures and setting them glittering and shimmering as they danced through the air.

Standing on opposite sides of the room, Jack and Elsa pulled it into an enormous, sparkling ball of snow in the center of her bedroom.

 _POW!_

It exploded, just like the others had, bursting apart and falling softly towards the floor around them in a shining mist.

And the wall was gone.

Jack and Elsa simultaneously lowered their arms again, standing on opposite sides of the room and staring at each other once more in quiet, fascinated awe. Elsa's heart fluttered, the reality of his identity hitting her fresh once again as her gaze was locked into his piercing, snowflake-marked eyes.

Jack Frost.

All those years…

He cleared his throat, blushing slightly and running his fingers through his hair. She jolted, blood rushing to her face as well as she looked down, fidgeting with her fingers.

"So," Jack said, "I—I guess this is it."

She nodded sadly, walking over and meeting him at the doorframe.

"I suppose it is," Elsa said quietly. "Goodnight, Jack."

Pausing, Jack turned and picked up her hand, running his thumb over her skin. "See you in the morning, Snowflake," he whispered.

She froze, her heart leaping into her throat again as he bowed, bringing it to his lips and gazing up into her face through his white hair. Then, letting it go, he smiled sheepishly, turning around and walking into the art gallery.

"You keep calling me that," Elsa blurted.

There was a brief moment of silence.

Jack paused. He turned back to Elsa, a wave of confusion sweeping over his face as she stood, frozen, in the doorway.

"You—you _always_ call me that," Elsa stammered, starting again. "Why do you _always_ call me that?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Call you what?"

" _Snowflake."_ Elsa shifted uncomfortably on her feet, crossing her arms over her chest as he walked back towards her. "You've always called me Snowflake. Ever since I met you. I mean—literally, the _first minute_ I met you!"

Jack opened his mouth to say something, and then quickly shut it again. Trying once more, he pulled in a quick breath.

"I—well," he admitted, "I guess it—I guess it seemed fitting as a nickname."

"Because I'm—cold?"

Jack laughed, seeing her expression. "No," he said, "I mean—well, okay, at first. You know, because of the ice powers thing. But it's kind of come to mean a lot more since then, because—well, never mind."

Elsa raised her eyebrows.

Jack gulped, looking down at his feet and nervously kicking at the carpet. After a few, pained moments of silence—realizing that Elsa was waiting for an answer—he anxiously reached up, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's—it's sort of—okay." he mumbled. "It's—it's really cheesy."

Elsa felt a hint of a smile twitching out of the side of her mouth. She raised an eyebrow. "Um… and I'm Norwegian…?"

Jack looked up, shifting his fingers on the staff. He let out a short bark of laughter.

"You're good with cheese," he chuckled.

"I _love_ cheese."

He nodded, his cheeks flushing. Then, with Elsa watching him expectantly, he sucked in a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

"After three centuries of being—well, of being— _me_ ," Jack Frost laughed nervously, bringing a tiny smile from Elsa, "I have seen a _lot_ of snowflakes. And something I've noticed about them is that—well, snowflakes are beautiful from far away, but you can't really notice all the details unless you look at them close-up. Little miracles of nature. Every _one_ of them. I mean, they're— _amazing_."

Elsa felt her heart skip a beat, and she blushed.

"But—um," she stammered, "But what does that have to do with—me?"

"Well, that's why I think it works. The nickname, I mean."

Jack looked down, sheepishly reaching forward and taking her hand in his own. He pulled in another breath.

"Elsa, I call you _Snowflake_ because the closer I get to you—and the more carefully I look," Jack said softly, hesitantly peering up through his hair into her eyes, "The more intricately beautiful and complicated you become. I call you _Snowflake_ because the closer I get to you, the more I realize _exactly_ how incredible you really are."

Elsa's breath caught.

Jack shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his face flushing. Letting out a nervous laugh, he gave her hand a little squeeze, shrugging.

"You know," he choked, "Like—like a snowflake?"

She slowly looked up into his eyes as he dropped her hand, pulling in a deep breath and stepping backwards. Jack then quickly broke eye contact, gasping for another breath and nervously running his fingers through his hair.

"And—uh, and snowflakes are pretty—"

"— _You_ have been waiting for three _hundred_ years to use that line on someone," Elsa breathed.

"For _once,_ Elsa," Jack sputtered, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck again, "I'm actually _not_ trying to flirt at yo—"

He was cut off, stumbling back a step as Elsa embraced him, throwing her arms around his neck. After a brief moment of shock, she felt him relax, hesitantly putting his arms around her as well.

Elsa bit her lip, feeling the cold softness of his shirt. After a few seconds, she then pulled back slightly, giving Jack a quick kiss on the cheek.

He jolted.

"Wha-what was that for?" Jack laughed nervously.

Elsa felt a little heat rising to her face. Breaking from the hug, but leaving her hands clasped together behind his neck, she took a tiny step back from him.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just—felt like hugging you. I was being myself."

Jack shifted his hands on her sides, blushing slightly. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could do so, Elsa embraced him again, feeling his white hair brush against her cheek. Wrapping his arms around her waist, still holding the staff, he gave her a gentle squeeze.

He was so cold…

As the wave of calm rushed over her, Elsa felt herself relax a bit as Jack pulled her in tighter, the end of the staff sliding past her ankle. She smiled weakly.

"I'm glad we're friends," Elsa whispered.

Jack's body stiffened.

"Um—yeah. Friends," he choked. "Me too."

Elsa's heart leapt, and she sighed happily, standing on her tiptoes in her heels giving him another squeeze. Breaking from the hug, she then took a few steps back, stumbling slightly.

Jack stepped back as well, standing by the icy bedframe with the snowdrift on top of it. Seeing her expression, he quickly forced a grin, then blushing as Elsa planted her feet on the frost-covered carpet.

As the wall rose up between them, Jack and Elsa kept staring at each other through the tiny window, their eyes locked as the ice hit the top of the doorframe with a dull _thud._

Silence.

Snapping back into focus, Elsa turned around, glancing to the room divider on the other side of the room. Worriedly pulling her hands into her stomach, she bit her lip. She _could_ just melt the existing room divider and build a new one directly in front of the window, but it would be bringing further attention to the matter of—

Jack was laughing softly under his breath. Elsa snapped her head up, and saw that he was shaking his head on the other side of the ice, a good-natured little half-smile twitching out of the side of his mouth as he turned away from her.

"I'm _not looking,_ Elsa."

She felt heat rising to her face, and then blushed, letting out a nervous bark of laughter.

"I—um," she stammered, "It's—I guess I—"

" _—Look,"_ he chuckled, "I'll just stay on the bed, okay? And I'll close my eyes."

After a moment of hesitation, Elsa gingerly crept towards the tiny window in the ice, peering into the art gallery. Jack flipped backwards into the air as she did so, landing in the snowdrift on top of the platform again with a crunch. Readjusting himself in the snow, he pulled up his hood, holding it closed over his face as he closed his eyes.

"See?" he said. "Not looking. Can't see a _thing._ I'm practically asleep already. _"_

Elsa blushed, her throat still tight with embarrassment. Rubbing her hand over her opposite arm, she gave a little shrug.

"Well," she started softly, "I suppose that if you promise to _stay_ there for a few minutes, then I—"

"— _GLA-A-A-A-A-AULGH,"_ Jack stage-snored dramatically, " _Zeeeeeeeeeeee…"_

Elsa giggled in spite of herself, she saw the bottom half of Jack's face crack into a grin as he held the navy fabric shut over his eyes. Letting out a sigh of relief, she watched for a brief moment longer, then turning and running across the room to the room divider.

Like every other night, she pulled in a deep breath, closing her eyes in concentration. Elsa then swept her hand into the air, the chill of her icy dress flying away from her body and disintegrating into the air.

Hardly a second later, she swirled her arms over her head, a simple sheet of white bursting from her skin and falling around her.

"I know this probably isn't proper to say," Elsa laughed breathily, pulling the ice out over her arms into sleeves, "But I—I'm really glad you're here, Jack. I mean, the timing—everything that's happened. I don't know _where_ I'd be right now, if you hadn't showed up."

Feeling the snowy folds of the nightgown rolling down over her legs, Elsa shook her head, quickly walking over to her dresser, out of sight from the window. She flicked her hand across the end of her braid, beginning to pull it out for the evening.

"I'm just really sorry that you had to be here for this," she added, "I mean, the council, and the suitors, and—well, my life seems to have blown up. So It's really nice to have a new friend through all of it. I love my sister and all, but I've never really _had_ a friendship like this, Jack."

She finished pulling out the braid, shaking out her light gold hair, the gentle waves falling across her shoulders.

"So, I know that the research and such is probably pretty boring for you, but I really like having someone doing it with me," she said quickly, "I mean, you don't seem to _mind_ it—do you?"

There was a silence from the other side of the wall.

Oh, no.

 _Stupid girl!_ Elsa thought frantically, _You've said too much. Now he's uncomfortable. You are SUCH a horrible friend._ A wave of panic gripping her mind, she gulped, walking towards the wall of ice that divided the rooms.

"Um… Jack?"

Peering down through the window, Elsa fell quiet. Her heart swelling at the sight, a tiny smile formed on her lips, and she let out a long sigh.

Sinking into the snowbank and protectively clutching the staff to his chest, Jack Frost was already sound asleep.


	46. Fleurs

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 **1\. IIIIII LIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! Geez, I haven't really posted anything new for about 2 and a half months, while I've been working on the draft. Thank you thank you THANK YOU SO MUCH for everyone that's reviewed** — **AND for your patience with me! Ooooh, my WORD, I miss you guys (and I've needed ALL the encouragement I can get!).** **ICE ALLIANCE IS STILL ON HIATUS** **, but yeah, okay, the draft is taking WAY longer than I thought. Because of this, I caved and finished this chapter up, so that at least there will be SOMETHING new to read while we all wait for this new draft. I didn't realize exactly how much I needed to change and fix... (Bit of advice; if you want the first chapters, especially, as they are, I recommend copy-pasting them, because THEY'RE GONNA BE REEEEALLY DIFFERENT.) ;)**

 **2\. This chapter is where "Broken, Jagged Edges" was ORIGINALLY going to go. However, because Elsa isn't really emotionally to that point yet (and because there's a different piece sung by Idina Menzel that already exists... and fits PERFECTLY, for this scene!), we're saving it for later. Trust me, as soon as the recording is done, I'll put it up.**

 **3\. If you're seeing parallels between this chapter and chapters 1 and 22... don't worry. It's intentional. ;)**

 **4\. Patt: To answer your question, although I'm almost certainly going to regret it someday... I got my undergraduate degree in Physics, and I'm specializing in the study of light for my PhD. My research involves laser shtuff. Thanks for asking! And, for the record, NO, none of my colleagues are EVER going to find out that I'm writing a Jelsa fic!**

 **5\. You guys are fantastic, and I miss you more than I can say, and you're all awesome. Thanks SO MUCH for being here and justifying my secret hobby! :D**

 **.**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo, like usual. As it turns out, Jack isn't the only one struggling to control his thoughts... ;)**

 **.**

 **46: FLEURS**

It wasn't that Elsa couldn't sleep. It was that she didn't want to.

With the Council, and the suitors, and the ball, and the various reforms she needed to push through in the court, the young queen's mind was racing as it was. And then, add on the fact that Jack Frost— _the_ Jack Frost, Jack Frost, himself, in the flesh, was sound asleep in her room, on the other side of the thick wall of ice—no. Sleep, if it was going to happen at _all_ tonight, would not be happening for another few hours, at least.

She had far, _far_ too much thinking to do first.

On the legal front, in addition to continuing to work on the peasant housing reform, it appeared that she also needed to start a long campaign of research on child abuse. In politics, there were the suitors. Then there was the ball, and the children's party, and Christmas, all while trying to keep a general grasp on the usual affairs of the kingdom, along with coming to terms with Anna's pregnancy, her own problems with the council, and the episode with King Edvin on the previous afternoon. Then, at the center of the whirlwind, there was a beautiful set of deep blue, sparkling, snowflake-marked eyes.

She had known that her first holiday season with the crown would be hectic, but—goodness. Some Christmas _this_ was turning out to be.

Elsa sighed, sitting up in her bed again and hugging her knees to her chest through the covers. Even though she couldn't see him through the wall of ice, she could hear Jack's breathing, the calm, rhythmic sound strangely comforting in the silence of the room. A weak smile began to spread over her face, her heart swelling as she longingly looked towards her art gallery…

The realization hitting her fresh again, Elsa collapsed back into the covers. Jack Frost was in her room.

Jack. _Frost._

Pressing her lips together, she cupped her hands over her eyes, struggling to suppress the fit of giggles building up inside of her chest. Jack Frost was in her room. No big deal. He was only Jack Frost. You know. Jack Frost, her adolescent obsession. Jack Frost, her secret research project. Jack Frost, her one little piece of hope, that she had clung to for so many years, that ice powers _didn't_ make her a monster…

Jack Frost. Her childhood hero.

For all those years of study, Elsa had obsessed over the very _idea_ of Jack Frost, just dreaming of a kind, elderly man with ice powers—a person she couldn't hurt—who would come and be her friend, to keep her company in her loneliness. And then, expecting a funny old elf of a creature, a breathtakingly handsome young man had showed up instead.

 _Correction_ : A breathtakingly handsome young man, who had waited for approximately ten seconds before casually tossing the first sexual innuendo in her direction.

 _Does the phrase 'emotional whiplash' mean anything to you?_ Jack had asked on the previous afternoon.

Shaking her head slightly, Elsa pulled her hands away from her eyes, pressing them together and touching the tips of her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

 _You. Have. NO idea,_ she thought.

And as if meeting her hero—and, eh heh, being _flirted at_ by him—somehow wasn't enough, there were all the gaps in her theories that were suddenly filled in. For an example, there was the matter of Jack Frost's age. While it wasn't a big deal to Elsa (at least in how it affected their friendship), Jack had been completely embarrassed by it, as if she'd somehow be disgusted to find out that he was—well, three hundred and nineteen years old. While she was twenty-one. But, friendship couldn't be stopped by something as trivial as age. At least, not to her. In some ways, Jack was definitely still a young man, but in others, he was an ancient. In Elsa's mind, this was a good thing, not a bad thing. He had the snappy sense of humor, the spirit of adventure, and the boyish, romantic—um— _enthusiasm_ of a man her own age, paired with the wisdom and kindness of someone that had spent three hundred years silently (and thanklessly) helping mankind. _That,_ Elsa was certain, was a combination that she wasn't going to find _ever_ again.

Not to mention the ice powers. Not to mention the protective streak. Not to mention—well.

Not to mention that— _face_ of his.

Yes, please.

Elsa slowly pulled her hands away from her face, holding them above her in the air and staring at her palms. This was something of the same position she'd found herself in during their snowball fight in the library, when he'd caught her in the snow. Practically feeling his cold grasp on her wrists again, Elsa let out a dreamy sigh, blushing slightly at the memory as she gazed up at her hands.

Lovely.

That had felt… _lovely_ …

 _AUGH! NO!_ Elsa jolted, sitting up suddenly. _Don't think about that!_

Ripping off the covers as she desperately scolded herself, Elsa swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was the _Queen._ She was raised to be a lady, and ladies weren't supposed to—to _think_ about such things. It—it wasn't— _proper._ Or ladylike. Right?

Elsa bit her lip.

But... she hadn't exactly been running the kingdom by being "ladylike," either...

Such things didn't matter, anyhow. She shouldn't allow herself to linger on such thoughts, proper or otherwise, because they were only setting her up for more heartbreak. She and Jack were— _friends._ JUST friends. He was a flirt, _that_ was for certain, but it certainly had nothing to do with _her._ Thinking about it would only make things worse…

But—but _Jack. FROST._

All those years, and here he was, every bit as kind and clever and fun as she could have ever hoped he would be. But, he wasn't just _that,_ of course. He was also brilliant. And witty. And, _oh,_ Jack was handsome… which didn't help matters in the least. By this point, as far as Elsa was concerned, that boy could nip at her nose ANY time he—

 _Stop! THINKING about it!_

In her mind's eye, Jack was scooting up next to her on an icy piano bench in the library, grinning and wagging the feathered end of a quill in her face.

 _You. LIKED it._

Getting onto her feet, the folds of the icy nightgown swinging around her legs again with their reassuring chill, she shook her head vigorously, walking out into the room through the moonlight. She—it—NO. Just— _NO._

 _Self. CONTROL. Elsa_ —! She thought desperately. She suddenly realized that she was standing in front of the wall of ice, peering down at what she could see of him through the tiny window. He'd promised that, for the night, he wouldn't melt any of it.

Elsa hadn't made any such promise, herself.

Taking a step back, she silently swept her hand over the ice, and the window expanded, a shimmering mist disintegrating into the air. Leaning over the windowsill between the rooms, she stood in quiet wonder, resting her chin on her hand. Gazing down at him as he lay with his body slightly sunken into the pile of snow, Elsa felt her heart swell again.

 _Snow._

She was looking at Jack Frost, quietly sleeping in a pile of snow.

If it was possible to flirt in one's sleep, he would be the first to figure out how. Oh, that face.

Elsa blushed, looking down and fidgeting with her fingers, tracing the edge of the sill between the rooms. After a few moments, she pulled in a deep breath.

"You really _are_ a Guardian… aren't you?" she whispered.

But, of course, Jack didn't answer. As he slept, breathing steadily, the Spirit of Winter clutched his shepherd's crook to his chest, a clump of white hair falling away from his face. Elsa closed her eyes, pulling in another long breath and shifting her elbow on the icy windowsill.

"I spent five years working on that map," she said quietly, "And I—well, you were the only hope I ever really had, Jack. Being locked away from my sister and all."

Elsa shook her head, shifting on her feet.

"Life's been wonderful since I learned to control my powers," she added. "I mean—really. I have Anna now, so it has been. But that doesn't change all those years of isolation. Or," she whispered, a breathy giggle escaping her lips, " _Hi. I have ice powers, and I don't know why_ … right?"

She let out a tiny laugh, a little blood rushing to her face as she gazed down at the sleeping boy in the snowbank.

"Something that always confused me with the records was—well—I kind of named it the _Prankster/Protector Paradox_ ," she admitted softly. "Silly of me. I know. But you were so _confusing!"_

Elsa let out another soft, bitter bark of laughter, the memories of frustrated confusion rushing back into her mind as she leaned back from the window. "In _one_ account," she whispered into the silence, "You'd be icing the streets and blowing people's packages away from them to see their reactions. Then, in the next, you'd be sweeping a snowbank in front of a falling child, to catch them before they got hurt. _How do those things go together?_ That—that doesn't even make _sense!_ It's a paradox! Are you a prankster or a protector? Who _are_ you, Jack Frost?"

Shaking her head, Elsa looked down and suddenly realized that long, jagged shots of frost were spiking out across the crystalline windowsill from her hands. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes, pulling in her breath.

Opening them again, she slowly exhaled, gazing down at the beautiful, white-haired young man sinking into the snow. Her heart swelling again, she leaned forward into the window, resting her chin on her fist again.

"You're not a prankster _or_ a protector," she said softly, "Jack… what's so incredible about you is the fact that you—you're—you're actually _both._ Two sides of the same coin. You mess with people, just like you mess with me, and honestly, sometimes you go too far. But the moment you notice that someone _isn't_ having fun _?"_

She leaned forward further into the windowsill, her eyebrows lifting slightly.

"The _instant_ that you realize that someone is hurt, or in danger, or truly upset—you stop," Elsa breathed, "You _always stop._ Everything changes. And you aren't okay again, until they are."

She looked down, absent-mindedly running her fingers along the edge of the windowsill, tracing the patterns in the ice.

"The Prankster/Protector Paradox… it's not a paradox at all. It's a parallax," she continued. "You know—like in astronomy. When you look at the same thing from two different angles, you see it projected against two different parts of the same backdrop. It isn't actually moving or changing, but looking at it from different locations, in different ways, in different—situations—makes it look like you're seeing a completely different object. I—well, honestly, I think you're kind of like that, yourself. When I first met you, and you were going out of your way to mess with me, I met the prankster. The funny, fun-loving Jack Frost. I mean, it's not that I don't _like_ that side, but— _!"_

Elsa's voice trailed off, and she looked down, feeling a little blood rushing to her face again. Moonlight poured into the art gallery from the balcony doors in the middle of its length, catching the hundreds of icy statues lining it and setting them agleam in the darkness. There was a tiny sigh, and she looked back down to see the Spirit of Winter turning over slightly in his sleep, the frosty fractals on his shirt glistening as he moved. A hint of a smile tugged at the edge of his mouth, and Elsa's heart leapt.

 _Oooooooooh_ , goodness…

After a few more moments, smiling dumbly as she leaned on the windowsill, Elsa jolted, snapping back into focus. She gulped, shaking her head in slight embarrassment at herself.

"So, that's the one part of you. The Prankster," Elsa started again. "But then—when I was with that suitor—I saw the other side of your personality. The protective side. You choose to project the first more than the other—you know, the flirty, mischievous side—but that doesn't make the protector side any less a part of you. I think you're trying to hide that side, because it's the more— _vulnerable_ one. I mean—that's what I think _motivates_ you to be so fun. You know?

"I don't know if I'm right, but—well, I wouldn't be surprised if that's why you're a Guardian," she admitted softly. "The pain. _Everyone's_ got pain; _everybody's_ a little bit broken, in one way or another, but it's not what we're _struggling_ _with_ that defines who we are. It's how we respond to it.

"Jack—that's what makes you so amazing. Your response. From what you've told me, you were— _tortured_. More than I think anyone could really imagine. You _could_ have become bitter and cruel. You _could_ have really hurt people—you know, trying to get back some sort of feeling of power, or of control. It would have been easy to justify. But—you didn't.

"You told me that it helped distract you. Helping other people have fun. But I don't think that's it.

"From how you treat me—how you're always messing with me, and trying to make me laugh, and to relax, and to let things go, and everything—I think it's because you know what it feels like, to _not_ be able to have fun. And you don't want anyone else to go through the same pain that you did."

Elsa bit her lip, fidgeting with her fingers as she stood, gazing down at him longingly through the window in the ice. Blushing slightly, she let out another tiny laugh, shaking her head with disbelief.

"I—oh, come now! Who in _Heaven's_ name responds, to _being tortured,_ by trying to _help people?"_ she giggled breathlessly, "That's—that's _incredible!_ For all those years, all the research I did was on Jack Frost, the Spirit of Winter—I mean, the version of you from _after_ your death. So, I'm not going to pretend that I know who you were in your past life. But Jack—if there's one thing I _do_ know, it's that—in _this_ life—you _are_ a Guardian."

She took a step back from the wall of ice, turning and looking across the room to the crystalline vase sitting on her dresser. The jagged edge of the crack through its center caught in the moonlight, highlighting the two sets of broken pieces that were now fused together as she walked towards it. Elsa picked up the vase, pausing for a moment as she ran her fingers gently over the fissure. A bitter smile tugging at the edge of her mouth, she turned around, leaning back against the dresser.

"My sister thinks you're in love with me," Elsa whispered into the silence. "But I know that can't be true. I mean, the flirting and all—that's just you, being you. It—it wouldn't make any _sense_ for you to love me. I'm just glad you're willing to be friends with me. Even though I don't deserve it. I just—this has been the most _amazing_ day. I just—wish it could be like this all the time."

A few moments passed in the silence. Her face fell as she stared down at the vase.

"But—it can't."

Elsa sighed, shaking her head sadly. Pushing herself away from the dresser, carefully putting down the vase, she took a few hesitant steps towards the ice, finally coming back to the window. She gulped, gazing down at the pale boy laying, sound asleep, in the snow.

"You're— _Jack Frost,"_ she breathed. " _Jack. FROST._ You're a _legend._ And I'm only—I'm—!"

A moment of silence fell as the heartbreaking realization hit her in the chest.

 _Elsa._

She looked down to the windowsill in the ice, pulling her hands into her stomach and taking a tiny step back.

Just Elsa.

She pressed her lips together, swallowing the pain as a sharp pang of heartbreak hit her in the chest. After all… what could she possibly have to offer him? Elsa had been born into royalty, and she was confident in her abilities as a leader. All leadership really was, after all, was having a good sense of what needed to be done, and then making sure it happened. And as for her ice powers—well, those were unusual, and they were probably most of the reason that Jack Frost was even interested in being her _friend,_ in the first place. But they certainly couldn't be something _attractive._ He'd said that he wanted to be in a relationship with her, but that was probably more a mark of his general loneliness—no, desperation—than anything else. Surely, he couldn't _actually_ be interested in _her._

Having absent-mindedly started walking towards her dresser again, Elsa found herself standing in front of it, the vase beside her, gazing into her own reflection in the mirror that hung above it on the wall. A look of puzzlement sweeping over her face, she took a tiny step towards it, pausing and eying her own image in wonder.

Was she beautiful?

It had never actually occurred to her to wonder if she was, Elsa suddenly realized. It wasn't as much a lack of caring—she knew in her heart that, yes, she _did_ sort of care, no matter how trivial and narcissistic the idea would seem—as much as it was simply a lifetime of understanding that there were much more important things to worry about. Like growing up and ruling a kingdom.

Like never, _ever_ revealing her ice powers.

" _Wha—what is it?"_ Elsa heard herself stammering from that morning, standing in almost the same place that morning as she was now and staring down at a paralyzed Jack Frost, curled up into a ball on the floor at her feet. _"What's wrong NOW?"_

" _You—um—heh,"_ he'd choked _. "You're pretty."_

And then he'd run away.

It had seemed that _everything_ that had been blurted out in that particular encounter had been—well, blurted. The entire experience was still a little humiliating (improper, to say the least!), as far as accidents went, but—but had Jack really _meant_ what he—? Did he _actually_ think tha—

 _NO! Don't think about that!_ Elsa scolded herself desperately, whirling away from the mirror and pacing across the room to her bed. _He's—you're—you're friends. JUST friends. He's Jack Frost. Sort of the definition of unattainable, right? Reality calls…_

She sat down on the edge of her bed, the satiny threads on each of the quilt's Arendelle fleurs catching in the moonlight as she glanced back to the wall of ice.

 _Or does it?_

She reached over to her nightstand, absent-mindedly picking up the ice rose again, holding it up and watching the faint lamplight bend and sparkle through its clear, hard surface as a prism. The colors danced across the bedsheet, and she sighed.

This was far too wonderful to be reality.

Jack had made her promise to stop—well— _suppressing her center_ , as he called it. She'd tried it, for just a few moments, and it had been fine. Nice, even. It felt good to let herself love someone that wasn't Olaf or Kristoff or Anna; _that_ was for certain, but—well, that one time was different. Jack had needed a hug. Um— _really_ needed a hug. So, it was okay for her to give him one—right? Was she still a good queen? Would it really be alright if—well, with her heart and all, with the whole _love_ thing—if, for just this— _one_ time—?

Elsa swallowed hard, shakily reaching over and placing the ice rose back on her nightstand. She knew the truth about love. At least, as it applied to her.

If she opened her heart, disaster would follow.

 _"You are TERRIFIED of love. That much is obvious,"_ Jack's voice played in her mind.

 _"T-Terrified? Why would I be terrified of love?"_

 _"Because you value it so much."_

Elsa shook her head, picking up the edge of the quilt to crawl under the covers again, and then pausing. What would it even be _like,_ to simply—fall in love? To be that type. To be free, to follow whatever romantic desire she had, without fear of retaliation or turning away from her responsibilities? She just—with all her heart, she _wished_ she could—

 _Don't wish._

The heartbreaking realization stabbed her fresh once again. She was the Queen. And he was—well.

Jack Frost was a fantasy.

Elsa glanced to her own reflection again in the mirror across the room. _Don't start,_ she scolded herself bitterly. She. Was. The. _Queen._ And besides… even if she wasn't in such a position of power, she wasn't exactly born for the rose and pearl of romance. Jack might have been, but… _her?_

By this point in her life, Elsa had accepted the she wasn't the _type_ for people to fall in love with. She was the Snow Queen. The ruthless politician, with a frozen heart. The bad friend. The Scary Ice Powers one, so unlike her lovable little sister...

If Jack Frost _was_ in love with someone, it wasn't— _her._ If he was indeed "choosing" her, like Anna and Kristoff seemed to believe, then it was only logical that he was falling in love with a misconception of who she was; a fragile, light golden-haired girl with ice powers, who could _see_ him, a version of herself cast into a romantic ideal that Elsa (inadequate as she was certain she was) could never live up to. Even if Jack _was_ desperate enough to develop such feelings for this girl that he thought she was, Elsa had long-since concluded that Jack Frost was much, _much_ too good for her. It was a ridiculous and self-flattering fantasy to believe that she could stand a chance.

Sitting down at her desk, Elsa pulled a piece of stationary off the pile, the foiled shimmer on the corner's Arendelle Fleur gleaming in the moonlight. She would often write a few lyrics here and there, singing to herself when she was alone, which she almost never was…

Swallowing the pain, Elsa bit her lip, pulling in a deep breath. Trembling slightly as she wrote, the quill began to scratch across the parchment.

 _Don't dream—too far_

 _Don't lose sight of who you are_

 _Don't remember that rush of joy—_

Elsa paused, closing her eyes. Opening them again, she shifted in her seat, glancing to the wall of ice.

 _He could be that boy._

Fighting back the stinging in her eyes, she shifted her hold on the quill, shakily reaching over and dipping it in the ink well again. Touching it to the parchment, she scribbled down one more line.

 _I'm not that girl._

Elsa dropped the quill.

Picking up the piece of parchment, the wet ink gleaming in the faint light, her eyes fell onto the Arendelle Fleur in its corner. That fleur graced nearly everything in her life. It was the mark of the kingdom. The mark of a Queen.

The mark of responsibility.

Elsa sighed, standing up and walking slowly towards her dresser. All around her in the room, Arendelle fleurs were on the walls, in the paintings, even woven into the blanket on her bed. Whoever designed this room probably thought that they were a beautiful adorning mark, and to anyone else, the flower symbols among the rosemalding would have seemed like nice decorations. But to Elsa, they were reminders. Reminders of her responsibilities.

First the people. Then herself.

She must _never_ get those two things in the incorrect order.

She finally came to a stop in front of the dresser, looking at her own reflection in the mirror and putting down the piece of stationary. All around her in the background of the image were dozens and dozens of Arendelle fleurs. The sharp pang of heartbreak hitting her once again, she looked to the parchment with the scribbled lyrics, then gazing back up miserably into her own eyes.

 _I'm such a fool,_ Elsa thought.

In front of her on the dresser, and in the mirror, she saw the familiar gleam of ice around her in the room, amongst the other objects. The cracked vase. The rose. The ice.

Her eyes started stinging again. The young queen drew herself up the best she could, biting her lip against the stabbing pain in her heart as she looked at the fleurs, surrounding her, bearing down upon her, in her reflection.

The fleurs.

 _I can't be free._

 _._

 _._

 **(ANOTHER) AUTHOR'S NOTE: Now, go look up "I'm Not That Girl - Wicked (With Lyrics on Screen)" on Youtube. This should take you to an Idina Menzel version. Think of Elsa, in her room, and this scene... ;)**


	47. Sand

**ABOUT REVIEWS: Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everybody that reviewed! Seriously, you have no idea how much it means to me, and keeps me writing. Oh my word, I love you guys.**

 **ABOUT THE DRAFT: Hi, guys! Sorry the draft is taking so long—and thank you SO MUCH for bearing with me! I'm confident that, when I FINALLY get it done and posted, that you'll be able to see why it's taking so long. (The basic plot is the same, but in terms of new jokes, structure, material, etc, it will be roughly the equivalent of my posting 15 new chapters worth of stuff all at once.)**

 **GIVING CREDIT: This is the first chapter where I start to introduce the idea of Pitch Black being characterized as a "Fallen Guardian." This idea is taken from fantastic author Furyian's oneshot "Role Reversal," and is used with permission (I also recommend the oneshot!). We'll be getting back to this idea and expanding on it a LOT more later... don't hold your breath, because there's a LOT more story to get through before then, but I'm pretty sure you'll NEVER watch ROTG in the same way again. ;)**

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 **47: SAND**

Trekking hundreds of miles across the Arabian Desert's stretch of the Silk Road, Abdullah al-Khalil would bring to medieval Europe many precious and valuable objects to be traded and sold. However, a successful merchant, the stout, good-natured little man was aware that the objects themselves were not what he was selling. No, what he was _truly_ selling was the mystique, the _fantasy_ , that the items held; the tales of the faraway kingdoms from whence the fascinatingly foreign objects came.

In his mortal life, the Sandman had been a merchant of dreams.

When the desert winds had kicked up on that fateful night, swirling and howling as they lifted the mountains of dust into the air, he and his companions had agreed to kill their camels, removing their innards and crawling inside, to survive. Their tents were simply not strong enough for the size of the storm and the strength of the whirlwinds. However, it soon became apparent to the little band of merchants that they could not all return home from this particular round: there was not enough room for all of them to fit inside the animals.

The leader of the caravan, Abdullah's brother, had declared that they would cast lots to decide who would be sacrificed. The future Sandman, however, would not hear of it. Before anyone could say otherwise, he had then turned and broken into a full sprint away from his companions, running head-on into the storm, and thus guaranteeing their best chance at safety.

Even centuries after being raised—his rich, middle-eastern skin and pigmentation greatly paled from death, his body dehydrated and mortal legs crushed from the arid pressure—he was _still_ shaking the sand from his now-golden, dried-out hair.

In addition to his power to inspire dreams, which had been placed upon Abdullah by the Man in the Moon, the First Guardian (not counting the Fallen One, of course) was given the gift of sight—rather, the ability to see the future, in bits and pieces. This probably explained a great portion of his fondness for the mischievous Winter Spirit. The Sandman—who could always see him coming—was the one person in the entire world that Jack Frost _couldn't prank._ But, in watching the newly-official Guardian of Fun pranking _others_ over the years, the former merchant had acquired a delightfully endless source of entertainment.

But, like every person that had ever received such a gift, it had come with a curse. Eternally silent, his vocal cords irreparably damaged by the dust that had suffocated him, the Sandman lived every moment possessing the gift of exquisite foresight and knowledge, coupled with the inability to communicate it to others. Such a curse was endlessly frustrating.

It wasn't that he was incapable of communication—if he _really_ wanted to, he could have simply spelled everything, letter by letter, in the air. The problem was getting anyone to listen. No matter how wise or good or important the message was, _people_ , he had found over the years, were far more willing to listen to a voice that arranged meaningless words in pretty ways than to listen to one that spoke truth, but was incapable of such elegant speech.

Even with the other Guardians, the Sandman had almost entirely given up on trying to catch their attention. Like when they'd legitimately gotten worried that Jack had initially refused the position of Guardian. Or, when they'd held a funeral for him, despite the fact that he was perfectly capable to dissolving himself into sand for a few days when he needed to heal an injury, and had tried to _tell_ them so in the past.

Like, how none of the other Guardians seemed to realize that the Man in the Moon was a woman.

Some of the things he saw, the snippets, were so beautiful and fascinating to him that he would do everything in his power to make them come to pass earlier, rather than later. The problem, however, was that he only _had_ the snippets of the future to work with, to piece together what would occur. For an example, a particularly incredible future for the humans was in the world of transportation—elaborate, elegant flying machines, built from metal, that would _carry them through the air!_ When playing with his sand, he often would make one of these machines, fashioning himself the silly, wonderful little goggles that those humans wore… but, he could only know who he needed to give this dream _to,_ this inspiration, as soon as he could figure out how the invention of such a marvelous thing would take place.

What on _earth_ was a _kitty hawk?_

Well… no matter. Just another frustrating puzzle, that one. Having the ability to see the future had more than its fair share of perks, and not the least of these was the joy that Abdullah (better known as "Sandy") gained from sharing this gift with others in the form of dreams.

Passing effortlessly through the glass of Elsa's balcony doors, the First Guardian appeared on the other side, swirling his sandy body back together and looking around. The young queen's art gallery was truly stunning—it was not the only reason he'd come into the castle, of course, but it wasn't a downside, either. When he had a bit of free time from his rounds (for as long as the Boogeyman was kept at bay, most children only needed about one "inspired" dream per week to keep their minds in the proper state), he would need to remember to come back here to inspect it more carefully. Which wouldn't be a problem. After all, sand was dynamic. Fully capable of bursting his deceptively portly body apart into millions of golden granules, and then swirling it back together, there weren't many enclosures that could actually keep the Sandman _out._

Just another perk, of being him. Unlike Jack and Nicolas, Abdullah's body had been partially destroyed by his death, leaving his legs so damaged that, like his vocal cords, they couldn't be replaced. But, this was no problem for Sandy. The stubby golden legs and feet that he'd fashioned for himself were hardly any less convenient than the Spirit of Winter's gangly limbs, because the Sandman— _like_ the Spirit of Winter—could fly. The difference was that Abdullah usually preferred floating to standing, because, well, why not? Jack, of course, had been able to keep his body basically intact, because he had drowned. And North, having frozen to death after falling asleep at his telescope, was the same.

Only the future Guardian of Wonder—a _true_ astronomer at heart—would be so committed to the pursuit of knowledge that he would _literally_ die, trying to figure out the source of the Northern Lights.

Seeing the icy bed at the end of the hallway formed by Queen Elsa's art gallery, he floated over towards it, seeing the Youngest Guardian lying there, silently sinking into a pile of snow and clutching his staff to his chest. From giving Elsa such a lovely dream on the previous evening, the Sandman knew that Jack Frost still owed him a favor. But, the First Guardian hadn't returned to this castle to collect on what he was owed. He simply wanted to know what was going on, in his snowy friend's heart. To be completely frank—as Jack's best friend—he wanted to know if a brother was in need of a wingman.

And Abdullah knew _jeeeeeeeust_ how to tell.

Pulling in a deep breath, the Sandman smiled, holding out his arms. When hit with a ball of hastily-formed dreamsand, a person would dream of whatever was on their mind, in their subconscious, at the given moment. In contrast, the dreams that he thought out and pieced together would only _hold_ on a given person if it truly represented something that they had contemplated or desired—others would be rejected. Unlike nightmares (those perverse imitations!), these dreams were not guaranteed to be accepted by their dreamers. Nightmares were manipulative. Forcing themselves upon their victims, they were deigned to torture the mind. The Sandman's dreams, however, were designed to invigorate it.

When a dream _did_ take, it would then also brighten or fade, and spread or collapse. The formula was simple: the brighter the sand, the more intense the desire or interest, on the part of the dreamer.

Time to see what the Guardian of Fun was thinking about the most right now.

The Sandman swirled his tiny hand through the air, a shimmering golden substance materializing in the air and beginning to condense above Jack's head. Ah, yes. One thing really _did_ stand out. If there was truly a single worry or desire that was consuming a given person's mind, the sand would form itself to this thought above the subject's head. If it was a memory, rather than an abstract idea or hope, it would form with more detail, being pulled from the subconscious itself, and in this case, it appeared that the sand was taking the form of such…

The Sandman silently clapped his hands, floating in the air with anticipation. He was going to see one of Jack's _actual memories?_ This would be _very_ telling, because OH, YOU _NAUGHTY_ LITTLE—!

The Sandman's eyes bulged as the image of the scantily-clad young woman and the dresser burst apart, the dreamsand disintegrating again. How on _earth_ had Jack conjured up _that_ picture with such detail?! Was that _truly_ a memory, not a fantasy?

When the Sandman had been teasing him about what dream to give Elsa on the previous night… _joking_. 'Twas a JOKE _._

Silent as always, Abdullah raised his eyebrows at Jack as he cracked his knuckles. Time to give that poor girl some clothing.

 _Hmm…_

Catching glimpse of the blue ballgown hanging at the end of the hallway, the Sandman floated up into the air, flying over to it and picking up the edge of the icy capelet, turning it over in his hands. Elsa's dress was definitely a feminine cut, but there was nothing poufy or ostentatious about it. Rather, it was smooth, sleek, and elegant—yes, the intricate swirls of frost glimmered in the moonlight, but the sparkle of the ice was without question a _subtle_ one, as opposed to a glaring touch.

Simple lines, but complicated designs. Queen Elsa wasn't _hiding_ her femininity, but she wasn't exactly going out of her way to make it the focal point of her style, either. Everything about the style of the dress reflected a young woman with an air of powerful sophistication, and just a _hint_ of artistic rebellion.

Ah, but of course.

Dropping the edge of the sparkling capelet and letting it float back to the floor, the Sandman backed away from the icy ballgown, beginning to swirl his hands in the air. As the golden substance began to condense, a tiny shape of a young woman spiraling into existence, he squinted his eyes in concentration, glancing back to the dress for reference as he built the dream.

Given what she had to deal with, it made perfect sense that Queen Elsa would elect for a sleeker style, simple a-lines and cuts that reflected a more _powerful_ femininity, rather than a classically "romantic" one. It wasn't that she was without vulnerability, of course—it was just that she had, by necessity, learned to hide it from the men around her that tried to steal her power. That she would give Jack a chance at _all,_ given what Sandy had seen of her past experience with male gender, was a mark that there was a powerful streak of romance inside of her, no matter how deeply buried and hidden away it might be.

After pulling the long capelet out of the sand, Abdullah brushed his palm over the top of the sand-Elsa's head, quickly moving his fingers back and forth as he twisted the dream's hair into a braid. After a brief pause, biting his lip in thought, the Sandman shook his head, reaching up to the golden young woman again.

Yeeeeeeah, Jack would probably like it better _down_ …

Silently snapping his hand back, the sand-Elsa's hair fell out of the braid, billowing apart and romantically floating down to settle across her shoulders. Sandy smirked, taking a step back in the air as he looked at his creation. Oh, yes. THAT was certain to get Jack drooling. As the loving (but sometimes slightly obnoxious) older brother figure that Abdullah _was_ to the Spirit of Winter, he intended to make this dream as heartbreakingly, salivatingly, _hilariously_ difficult to resist as possible.

If any of them had actually _said_ anything, Jack would have passionately denied it, blushing furiously and threatening to ice them in the face. But, from his increasingly gender-selective pranking, it was painfully obvious to the other male Guardians that the Spirit of Winter possessed what was—to _him_ —a bit of a rather embarrassing weakness.

Jack Frost had a _serious_ soft spot for girls.

It wasn't that Jack liked women, as much as it was that Jack. _LIKED._ Women. Much more than he would ever willingly admit. This was probably why he was still so fiercely protective of the now-sisterly Toothina (just like he was of all of the fairies) even _after_ his humiliatingly desperate attempt at a relationship with her had so utterly failed. As for his interest in Elsa, it wasn't exactly a surprise to Abdullah that the Spirit of Winter was sticking around Arendelle. After all, from what he could see, Queen Elsa was a witty, intelligent, passionate, and _very_ kind woman—and, as for Jack, she could _see_ him. With that alone, the Youngest Guardian was probably doomed to have fallen for her anyway. Add ice powers, a shy little smile, and then throw a few snowflakes into her hair, and Jack Frost was a goner.

And, if Elsa had _touched_ him—oh, boy.

Finishing the last touches on the sand version of the Snow Queen, her long hair loose on her shoulders as her golden capelet gently billowed behind her, the Sandman grinned, gently guiding the sand-Elsa to walk through the air towards the icy bed.

Here we go. _And—!_

Jack gasped in his sleep as his subconscious seized upon the dream, the tiny sand-Elsa glowing brighter as she gracefully swept her hands upwards, golden snowflakes bursting out over her head as the vision expanded. Jack's face cracked into a smile, and he clutched the staff closer into his chest, letting out a long sigh. And—oh, for goodness sakes.

The Guardian of Fun was blushing in his sleep.

The Sandman chuckled silently to himself, raising a single eyebrow at his old friend with a smirk. Well, well, well, Jacky-boy. _Somebody's_ got a crush, eh?

Taking a step back as Jack's dream glowed and expanded, the Sandman floated up to the window in the ice. Time to see if the lady's feelings were mutual with the Youngest Guardian's… if they weren't, at least, weren't _yet_ , it meant that the Spirit of Winter was in need of a wingman.

Heaven knows, he would need one. As his best friend knew better than anyone, Jack didn't have much of a filter, and if he hadn't gotten himself slapped _already_ , he would soon. Having been a teenage boy for over three hundred years, the Spirit of Winter was aware of literally every sexual innuendo in the book. However, when it came to his actual _experience_ with women (for as far as Sandy had been able to see), Jack Frost's skill level was… zero. Unless one counted that pitiful attempt at romance with the Tooth Fairy from the previous spring, in which case it plummeted into the negatives.

That was nothing short of _painful_ , for the other Guardians to watch.

The wall of ice dividing the doorframe, Sandy floated upwards, golden spirals of sand slowly swirling around him as he passed through the tiny window. Yes: there she was, quietly sleeping in her bed, on the opposite side of the room. In their sleep, quiet and breathing steadily, these two really _did_ look like children to him…

As finished swirling his body back together—there was no rush, really—Sandy noticed the dresser, pausing in the air. Looking back to the wall of ice, he suddenly realized it was a doorframe, the open door between the art gallery and the bedroom swung open, into the lady's room as—wait.

The image of the young woman in Jack's subconscious. The dreamsand. She had been pictured with a dresser. And that dresser—the _angles_ were—it—

Oh.

 _Oh._

The realization hitting him, Abdullah clapped his hand over his mouth, restraining from a snort. Looking back to the wall of ice as he put two and two together, picturing the encounter, blood rushed to his face as he silently buckled over into hysterical, gasping snorts of horrified delight.

Oh, _Jack_ , you poor boy. You poor, _stupid_ boy…

 _Ooooooooh,_ that must have been MORTIFYING _._ Abdullah held his stomach as he tried to take deep breaths, his face red from laughing as he floated in the air, looking back and forth between the doorframe and the dresser.

 _How many times has North told you to knock?_

Shaking his head again, the Sandman rolled his eyes as he floated across the room to the lady's bed. His face still red, he continued to silently chuckle under his breath. Oh, Jack. _Only_ Jack…

Queen Elsa was breathing softly, gripping the covers as she lay in her bed, her blonde hair thrown carelessly around her on the pillow. To anyone else, she might have appeared serene and peaceful, but the Sandman knew the physical appearance of troubled sleep. Well… first, he needed to see what was on her mind. After that, he could design her a dream.

 _Good evening, your majesty,_ the Sandman thought, beginning to sweep his hand through the air. _My name is Abdullah al-Khalil. It is an honor._

As the dreamsand began to condense, he snuck a glance back towards the art gallery.

 _Please excuse my friend, The Imbecile._

The sand was beginning to take shape now, slowly twisting in the air above the young woman's head. Raising his eyebrows, Sandy leaned in closer, as—

 _QuillFleurCrownSnowflakeVaseBookRoseMapStaffCradleGlovesSnowmanCorset_ _ **POW!**_

And the images exploded, the golden sand disintegrating into the air as quickly as it had formed. Frozen with shock, the Sandman stood, eyes bulging, at the young queen's bedside.

Uh… alright, then.

After a few moments, Sandy shook his head, beginning to roll his hands in the air as he stared at the young queen's face, noticing the anxious little crease in her brow. Suddenly, he understood why Jack's future with this young lady was so unclear.

 _A wee bit conflicted, aren't we?_ Sandy thought to himself, raising his eyebrows as he looked back to the ball of sand floating before him in the air. _Well, let's just remove a few of those... distractions…_

The tiny sand-version of Jack Frost was an easy one to form—after all, going for over three hundred years without changing his hair, clothing, or physical mannerisms, there weren't many questions about how to build the dream. Drawing his pointer finger downwards through the air, Sandy finished the delicate, golden shepherd's crook, flicking it towards the scrawny, golden young man. The boy caught it, snatching it up and flinging it over his wrist with a silent laugh, and Abdullah smiled as the sand-Jack flipped backwards into the air, darting over the young woman's bed.

As the dream took, Sandy watched the sleeping Elsa pull in a shaky, ragged breath, then letting it out and sinking down again with a tiny sigh. As the muscles in her face relaxed, her tight grip on the covers releasing, the Sandman raised his eyebrows. The young woman hadn't jolted, or at all tensed up, when he'd made Jack fly into her dream. By contrast, she didn't look nervous at all, but—relieved.

How interesting.

 _He really calms you down, doesn't he?_ Abdullah thought, backing up in the air as the sand-Jack grew brighter.

But, as he pondered this new epiphany, it occurred to him that it shouldn't have been surprising at all. The sandy version of the gangly, white-haired boy had once taken a very different physical form—rather, a form designed by the little princess's perception of what he would look like—but Sandman was aware that this as _far_ from the first time, that the girl born with ice powers had dreamed of Jack Frost.

Not that the Guardian of Dreams would ever dare betray such a secret. After all, Sandy's duty wasn't just to _inspire_ children's dreams, but to protect them from ever being revealed. In his domain—in that of the mind—children were free to play and grow, to escape from the world of reality, and this _only possible_ because their dreams were secret.

Perhaps this was the source of the Sandman's power. North could teach good children to open their eyes to the beauty of the world, Bunnymund could inspire courage for the future, Toothina could remind them of the things that mattered most, and Jack could lift the harsh burdens of reality, through the often-undervalued release of innocent play. But only the Sandman could help children by inspiring them from _inside their own minds._

And, adults, as the case may be. He turned around, seeing a shimmering behind him, to realize that the sand-Elsa on the other side of the wall of ice was glowing even brighter, snowflakes and spirals of glittering sand expanding through the window as Jack's dream around the elegant young woman grew.

The Sandman silently chuckled under his breath. Oh, Jack.

You little _Romeo,_ you.

But Jack's dream was being matched. Looking back to the sleeping young queen, now smiling shyly as she shifted in the covers, Sandy realized that the sand-Jack was glowing brighter as well, flipping into the air and swinging his shepherd's crook to the side, a burst of golden sand-snowflakes spiraling out into the air above her bed.

Abdullah shook his head, grinning knowingly as he floated into the center of the room, hovering in the air between the two independent, but nevertheless passionately expanding, dreams. They had both taken to their subjects—neither Jack nor Elsa had demonstrated _any_ visible signs of hesitation, to the form of the other joining them inside their minds. Jack's subconscious had, of course, _immediately_ seized upon the idea of the icy young beauty's existence, and as for Queen Elsa (despite all her distractions and worries), the _instant_ that Jack Frost had showed up in her dreams—in the one place where she _wasn't_ burdened with all of the usual anxieties, where her subconscious could run free—well.

 _That_ didn't take much convincing.

Rolling his tiny hands in the air, Abdullah concentrated, carefully forming a hill of sand. Pulling it upwards into a craggy mountain, he floated around it, moving into the air and brushing a set of golden storm clouds over Queen Elsa's ceiling. Flicking his fingers, the Sandman squinted in concentration, sending hundreds of tiny flecks of gold softly falling onto the model mountaintop like snow.

Perfect.

A self-satisfied hint of a smirk on his lips, Sandy floated back away from the mountain, the tiny sand-snowstorm he'd created in the middle of the queen's bedroom. Between the excitement of the storm clouds (for the boy) and the blank canvas of the snow-covered mountain (for the lady), such a sand-expansion should be irresistible to _both_ dreams. Aaaand, apparently, the dream subjects had already noticed it.

The sand-Jack above Elsa's bed silently laughed, spinning around in the air and launching himself off of an invisible platform at the growing blizzard. Turning around, Sandy looked to the window in the wall of ice, seeing that the sand-Elsa, in Jack's expanding dream, had noticed the mountain as well, a tiny, golden staircase materializing in front of her through the window and into the next room. Not yet aware of each other's existence, the tiny sand couple came closer towards the mountain, the dreams glowing and expanding as the sand-Jack whipped his staff through the air, darting through the strengthening blizzard, and the sand-Elsa ran towards the mountainside, her arms extended in front of her as the long staircase blasted into existence in the silence.

The Sandman took a few steps back in the air, watching in awe as the sand glowed brighter and stronger. At this rate, the dreams would intercept within a minute. He had never _seen_ subconscious passions seizing onto ideas like this. Not with this level of strength, that was.

But what would _really_ be interesting would be seeing if the dreams combined, and—if they did so—if the mutual desire was strong enough to be maintained. When dreams overlapped, as they sometimes did with siblings sleeping in the same room, they could sometimes combine and interact. However, this only happened if _both_ dreamers desired some form of a combination of their dreams. He had once seen this happen with adult subjects, when North and Bunnymund had been knocked out in the same room in the previous March.

On that occasion, both of these particular subject had been hit with dreamsand by accident, and both were tired and hungry from the unexpected night's work. Bunnymund's subconscious had shaped the sand into a cluster of carrots, and North, who was usually sustained through Christmas Eve by massive quantities of sugary cookies, had dreamed of candy canes. When the carrots and candy canes had overlapped, the dreams had combined easily, and to the Sandman, it was obvious why. _Food was food,_ and both the Guardian of Wonder and the Guardian of Hope were in need of it at the time.

By this point, the sand-Jack had whipped the "storm clouds" into a golden, glowing blizzard across most of the surface of Elsa's ceiling, and the sand-Elsa, on the side of the little mountain, was eagerly stomping and pulling and dancing a sparkling "ice" palace into existence. Flurries of sand blasting through the air around her, Sandy watched in interest as his creations assumed the form of their subjects. Wow, he was good—and, apparently, the real Jack and Elsa knew each other well enough by this point that they were able to effectively, and accurately, mimic each other's personalities in their subconscious fantasies. Which said something about _them_ , for only having known each other for three days.

All of a sudden, the boy in the golden blizzard noticed the activity on the side of the mountain.

Whirling around and darting through the air to investigate, the sand-Jack flew down, lighting onto the tiny balcony and pausing in front of the golden sand-Elsa in wonder. Abdullah floated up towards the dream, watching in anticipation as the tiny dream Elsa stared at the golden young man in front of her, her eyes wide as he extended his hand.

A pause.

Sandy held his breath. The sand-Elsa's face broke into a shy little smile. Abdullah leaned in closer, watching as she began to extend her hand towards the other dream…

 _POW!_

The Sandman startled back in shock as a blinding explosion of light ripped through the room, the sand shooting out in all directions. Spirals and swirls of golden snowflakes flew into the air, the combined dream spinning and glowing across the bedroom.

Righting himself, the Sandman stared, his eyes bulging as the dreamsand curled and danced around him, glowing brilliantly in the darkness of the room. In the center of the dream, just inside the balcony of the golden ice palace, the tiny sand-versions of the two were waltzing through the silence.

In over seven centuries, the Guardian of Dreams had never _—ever—_ seen two independent dreams combine like that.

His mouth hanging slightly agape, the Sandman's eyes were wide as he looked around himself in the room, awestruck at the sand slowly twisting in elaborate spirals as the tiny, golden couple silently waltzed through the air between the two sleeping ice children. Jack Frost had told him, on the previous night, that he and the Snow Queen of Arendelle were "just friends."

Yeah.

 _Friends._

Standing in the center of the spectacular dream, a sly little smile tugged at the edge of Sandy's mouth.

That's what he thought.


	48. Practice Suitor

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: First off: Thank you, THANK YOU so much to everyone that reviewed! It means more than I can say. And YES, ZzZzBluestarZzZz, of COURSE I read reviews like that! Oh, my goodness, you guys are wonderful. I miss you all so much! Yep, were still technically on hiatus, but GAAAAURGH I am** ** _seeing the light at the end of the tunnel_** **with the new draft! (In this chapter, there's actually something with a maid coming and waking Elsa up at 8, which is a detail that's added in the new draft. Just accept it for now; it's NOW a thing.) ;) Meh. At least, I can promise that there's a TON of new material. Example: The current version that's up of the** ** _Jack arriving in Arendelle/first meeting_** **scene is about 4000 words. The new version is sitting around 17000 words. Oh, man, I cannot WAIT to just finish the draft and move on! Thanks so much for bearing with me, guys, and I am SO SORRY this is taking so long! I LOVE YOU ALL, AND THANK YOU FOR STILL BEING HERE AND JUSTIFYING MY SECRET HOBBY!**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo. Because, of COURSE there is.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **48: PRACTICE SUITOR**

 _Pff._

The snowball hit Elsa's headboard, disintegrating as it fell apart onto the mattress below. Watching through the window in the wall of ice, Jack bit his lip. She still hadn't woken up.

Taking a step back, he scooped another handful of snow out of the pile on his bed, packing it into a snowball. If it had been North, or something, he would have just aimed for the face. But _Elsa_ was—well.

She was _Elsa._

After a brief moment of contemplation, tossing the next snowball to himself, Jack looked back to the window. Pulling it back, he aimed, and _—!_

 _Pff._

As it fell apart, just like the last, he paused, watching for signs of movement.

Nope. Still nothing.

Jack stuck his hands in his pocket, taking a few steps back from the wall of ice. Glancing to the pocketwatch sitting on Elsa's desk, and then back to her bedroom, he pulled in his breath. It was almost eight o'clock. She would definitely want to be awake by now… especially before the maid came.

The _maid._

The realization hit him all at once, and he jolted, looking to the icy bed and the wall. The maid. The maid was instructed to _come at eight,_ and if Elsa didn't respond, when there was another bed suddenly in her room… _!_

Well. _That_ wouldn't go over well.

Jumping up onto the edge of the icy bedframe, Jack set his feet, pressing his palms flat on the wall of ice. Oblivious to the darkness of the December morning, the golden pocketwatch on her desk was still ticking on, time marching determinately forward despite the veil of stars that still hung stretched out over the fjord. In any other circumstances, Jack would have still considered this to be—well, _wrong_. He'd promised that he'd leave the wall of ice in place for the night.

But for Elsa—whose life was somewhat ruled by the hands on the pocketwatch—it was now morning.

 _You will forgive me later, Snowflake._

Jack jerked his hands back from the wall, flipping off of the bed as the ice leapt into the air behind him, swirling and leaping in long, glittering spirals of frost, catching the last of the moonlight pouring in through the tall glass doors. Hardly even watching them, he swirled the ice particles into the hallway as the window widened before him. There wasn't time for more than that.

Good enough.

Snatching up his staff, Jack leapt up onto the icy bedframe, diving through the window and twirling up into the air on the other side. A few rouge snowflakes dancing around him as he tumbled forward to land on the ground, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he touched down, Jack ran forward across the room to—

He froze.

His heart pounding as he approached her, the Youngest Guardian slowly let out his breath, loosening his grip on the staff and allowing the end of the shepherd's crook to silently fall into the carpet. Leaning into it with a wistful sigh, Jack felt his heart swell. Quietly sleeping in her bed, her hair thrown about her face on the pillow, Elsa was somehow even _more_ beautiful in real life than she'd been in the dream. And, oh, _man,_ was that a great dream…

Geez—he was already _dreaming_ about her? Was that creepy?

Jack bit his lip. Taking a hand off the staff and running his fingers through his hair, he let out a breathy, nervous laugh, shaking his head with embarrassment as he stared in awe at the brilliant young reformer sinking into her covers.

Sweet _mother_ of snowflakes, the Snow Queen was beautiful.

"Elsa?" Jack tried softly.

No response.

He slowly let out his breath, staring longingly down at the sleeping young queen. Long-since unbraided from the night before, Elsa's hair still had a few snowflakes stuck in it…

But that dream was so _amazing_. Like, the kind of dream where you're having so much fun, and everything is going so right, that you wake up and just about want to punch a wall in frustration from having it all suddenly taken away from you. Well—whatever that dream about Elsa was, _one thing_ was for certain.

Sandy. Was _never._ Finding out about it.

"Elllllllsaaaaaaaaaa…"

Jack gingerly sat down on the edge of her bed, reaching forward and gently pushing a hair back from her face. A tiny moan escaping her lips, the young queen stirred slightly in the covers, the sleeve of the icy nightgown slipping from her shoulder. Jack smiled sheepishly, brushing back her hair again and watching the Ice Powers Girl as her soft lips parted for breath. Her eyes fluttering open, she shifted again, starting to turn over as the—

" _EEP!"_

Elsa gasped, jumping and scrambling backwards in her bed.

" _Jack!"_ she choked, her face going pale, " _What are you DOING in he—MMPH!"_

His hand clapped over her mouth, Jack frantically shook his head, glancing to the door.

 _Knock knock._

Elsa's eyes bulged, and she abruptly sucked in her breath with the realization as Jack carefully pulled his hand away, looking to the door again.

"Your majesty?" asked the maid. "It's eight o'clock, your highness. Are you—"

"— _I'm up!_ I mean—uh," Elsa stammered, jolting,, "I—I'm awake! You don't need to come in!"

Jack relaxed slightly as she turned back to him, her jaw hanging open in shock as she clutched the blanket to her chest, reaching her other hand across to pull the sleeve of her nightgown back up onto her shoulder.

 _Thank you!_ Elsa mouthed.

"As you wish, your majesty," the maid's voice came again. "Will that be all, Queen El—"

"— _Yes!"_ she blurted, "That—thank you. Yes! You are dismissed."

As they heard the sound of the maid's feet walking back down the hallway outside, Elsa let out her breath, clapping her hand over her heart and looking to Jack.

" _Oh my word,"_ she gasped, "That was _really_ close!"

He shrugged. "I figured you wouldn't want anyone to see—"

"— _No,"_ Elsa choked, shaking her head and glancing to the bed in the art gallery.

Sitting down on the edge of the mattress again and resting his feet on his staff, Jack laughed softly. "Don't feel like explaining it?"

"I don't feel like explaining _anything."_

He grinned as Elsa kneaded her eyebrows, collapsing back into the covers and staring at the ceiling.

"Can I just— _not_ —get up today?" she laughed bitterly, shaking her head again. "I don't want to deal with politics. I don't _want_ to be the Queen today."

"Doesn't this conversation usually go in the _other_ direction?" Jack chuckled.

"It's different when my _duty_ involves _suitors."_

"Ah."

Groaning, she shook her head, cupping her hands over her eyes as she lay in the sheets, the icy sleeve of the nightgown slipping from her shoulder again. After a long moment of slack-jawed hesitation, Jack stood up, pulling in his breath.

"How about _this_ ," he offered, raising his eyebrows. "Your choices are the following: Get up, or scoot over."

 _"I'm up!"_

"Ouch."

.

.

"Elsa, it's _not going to be like last time."_

Jack's heart sank as he watched the young queen worriedly pace back and forth in the throne room, delicate flurries of snow materializing out of the air around her. Her long capelet billowing across the carpet, she bit her lip, turning and walking over to one of the large mirrors on the side of the room, opposite the windows.

"Are you sure this isn't too delicate?" she whimpered, flicking her fingers over the crown. The ice creaked as it thickened, the filigree swirls filling in as it settled deeper into her hair. "I—I d-don't want to look— _weak_."

"Snowflake, you couldn't look weak if you _tried."_

To this, Elsa glanced to his reflection in the mirror, smiling gratefully. Jack's heart leapt, and he stuck his hand in his pocket, walking up to her.

"It's _not going to be like last time,"_ he repeated, dropping his voice to a whisper. "You're going to be fine."

She turned around to face him, anxiously staring at the floor. "I—I just c-can't believe—!"

He raised his eyebrows slightly. Elsa shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut and shakily pulling in her breath.

" _Suitors,"_ she choked. "I am. _Seeing. Suitors."_

Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Well, I can't do much about _that_."

"I should _never_ have agreed to this!"

"It didn't sound like you were given much of a choice—"

"— _What if they're all awful?"_ Elsa stammered desperately, whipping around to him as her eyes blurred with tears, " _What if they're all like King Edvin?_ Or if they're all stupid? What'll I do, _then?_ Ruling a kingdom is hard enough, as it is! I _don't_ want to get married, right now!"

"Get _married?"_ Jack startled.

"I promised I'd consider them!"

" _And_ you promised to _choose_ one?"

Elsa's eyes widened. Stumbling back a step, she reached out for the mantle, missing it, and then catching its edge, leaning against it and clapping her other hand to her forehead.

"You're _right,"_ she breathed, slowly looking up to him as a smile crept over her features, "I—you're _right!_ You're a _genius!"_

Before Jack could respond, the young queen leapt forward, throwing her arms around his neck with relief. His mouth falling open with shock, Jack's heart leapt, and he gingerly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as her hair brushed up against his face.

It was so soft…

Stepping back from him, Elsa stumbled slightly, pulling in a shallow gasp of air. Clapping her hand to her stomach and throwing out her other arm to catch the backrest of the nearest sofa, she leaned onto it, trying to take a few deep breaths.

A look of concern swept over Jack's face.

"Uh… Snowflake?" he asked softly, "Are—are you okay?"

She nodded, her face pale. "I'm fine. Just—just feeling a little faint, that's all."

Jack watched her worriedly as she leaned against the sofa, struggling to breathe. Glancing down, it occurred to him.

Oh.

"Maybe you need to loosen—uh— _that_ ," he said carefully.

She looked to him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Jack felt blood rushing to his face.

Eh, heh.

"I—um—the," he stammered, trying to come up with the word. "You know. _This."_

As she pushed herself back from the sofa, Jack gingerly reached forward, flicking the unnaturally hard surface of her stomach.

 _Thock._

"My corset?" Elsa asked hesitantly.

"Yeah. Whatever it's called," Jack sighed. "It looks—really tight."

"It's _supposed_ to be tight."

"If you're having issues breathing, that's a problem," he scoffed. "Can't you loosen it, a _little?_ "

Elsa shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her hand over her opposite arm. "I can't do that unless I take it off," she admitted. "It's built in one piece of ice."

"So, take the stupid thing off."

Elsa bit her lip. "It's fused to the dress. I can't take off the corset unless I take off everything."

Jack paused, his eyebrows perking slightly.

 _Now, THERE'S an idea._

" _Auuurgh,"_ Elsa groaned.

He jolted back into focus, the dreamy grin suddenly wiped off his face. "I _didn't SAY anything!"_

But Elsa had already resumed pacing, nervously massaging her temples with her hands by her face, the flurries materializing out of the air around her.

Shaking his head, Jack sighed. He tossed the staff into his other hand, bouncing up off the ground and swooping across the throne room to suddenly drop back to the floor in front of her.

" _Eep!"_

 _"You're. Going. To be. FINE,"_ Jack said sternly, glaring into Elsa's eyes. "Will you _please_ calm down?"

"I _can't_ be calm," she whimpered frantically, breaking eye contact and looking down, "I've tried. No calm. Not with suitors. I can't conceal it. I—"

She abruptly cut herself off, giving her head a tiny shake and biting her lip. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sharply let out her breath, whirling away from him to resume pacing.

Jack rolled his eyes, leaping into the air again.

" _Oh!"_ Elsa startled.

"Repeat after me," he said, catching her shoulder before she could jerk away. " _I can do this."_

Elsa gulped, biting her lip. "I—Jack—"

"—Say it."

A few moments went by. Finally, she shook her head slightly and blinked, nervously drawing in a breath.

"I can do this," she quavered.

He grinned approvingly, giving her shoulders a slight squeeze and staring more intently into her eyes. "I am _powerful_."

"I am powerful."

"I am brilliant!"

"I am brilliant."

"I am _amazing_."

"I am amazing."

"I am _madly_ in love with Jack Frost."

"I am madly in lo—" Elsa stopped abruptly, her face going pale.

Jack bit his lip.

"Kinda wanted to hear you say it," he mumbled, kicking at the carpet.

Raggedly pulling in her breath, her eyes watering again, she shook her head, stumbling back a step. "I'm sorry," Elsa apologized frantically, "I—I don't have much of a sense of humor right now. This isn't the time for joking around, and—"

"— _Really?"_ Jack scoffed. "Because, I think it's _exactly_ the time to be joking around."

"I have _suitors_ coming," she protested, "And I—I'm nervous, and—!"

"—Elsa?"

She looked up. The tiny snowflake caught the sunlight as it slowly turned in the air, hovering above Jack's fingers.

He raised his eyebrows.

"You're hyperventilating," Jack sighed.

She gulped, staring at her feet.

"I—I am," Elsa squeaked. "I—yes. I mean, thank you, and—!"

 _Ting._

Her face relaxed, and Jack felt a wave of relief wash over him. Elsa stopped shaking, letting out her breath.

"Snowflake? _"_ he tried softly. "You've got _suitors._ It's not that big a deal. I mean, this isn't supposed to be scary."

"But I—I d-didn't want to see—"

"—I know. But you're going to be fine."

She nodded weakly, looking up to him and pulling in her breath.

"Okay—ignoring the circumstances," Jack tried again, "I think that we could have some fun with this."

" _Fun?"_ Elsa sputtered. "How could this be fun? I don't even know what's going to happen."

"Well, let's go through what _will_ happen, then."

Jack took a few steps back, throwing his arms outwards as he spun around, pacing to down the long carpet in the center of the room. Reaching the end of it, Elsa watching, he spun around to face her.

"You will be there, looking beautiful," he said, gesturing to the throne as she blushed, "And a given sorry sap will be there—or there—"

"They're _suitors_ , first of all," Elsa retorted, "Not ' _sorry saps—'"_

"Potae-to, potah-to—"

"—And they're not assigned to stand in a specific place."

"You mean, there's no hidden trap door for you to drop them through when they get boring? What a shame."

To this, Elsa giggled slightly, covering her mouth with her hand. Then, drawing herself up again, she bit her lip.

"And where will you be?" she asked.

"Over here. The whole time," Jack reassured her. Her then grinned, sweeping into a deep, dramatic bow. "Offering the witty commentary."

She smiled weakly, nervously twisting her icy heel into the carpet. Quickly looking around, Jack bounded into the air, swooping to the other side of the room and snatching up a large, glass vase.

 _The_ large, glass vase.

With Elsa watching, he flew back over to her, tossing it to himself as he silently touched back on the floor.

"And, I'll have _this,"_ he added, a sly grin at the edge of his mouth.

She laughed. "By the way," she admitted, "I—when you stood up for me to King Edvin—"

"—Did it feel good? _Yes."_

Elsa laughed softly, shaking her head.

"Why didn't you just open the door?" she asked.

He froze.

Looking to the heavy wooden doors at the end of the hall, Jack felt blood rushing to his cheeks. Letting out a sharp bark of laughter, he grinned sheepishly, tossing the vase gently to himself and looking back to her.

"Somehow, this was more satisfying," he said.

"But you _had time,"_ Elsa reasoned, "I mean—Jack—you were there for the whole thing!"

"Yeah?"

"I—you—well, _you_ saw what he was doing!" she stammered, "Why didn't you—I mean, you didn't actually _intervene_ until I called the—"

Jack stared at the floor. Elsa's eyes widened.

"Until—I _called. The guards,"_ she gasped. "You weren't going to intervene _unless I called the guards."_

He shifted uncomfortably, shrugging and letting out a nervous laugh. "Elsa, it's—"

"—You only intervened when I _called the guards!"_ she realized, "You were _letting me stand up for myself!_ "

"I—I f-figured you'd want it that way," Jack admitted, shrugging and looking down to his feet, "I mean—and you'd just kicked me out, so if you didn't want to see me, I was going to respec—"

"—Thank you."

She walked up to him, and he stopped, his heart skipping a beat as he turned back to face her. She smiled shyly, tucking a stray hair back into her bun.

"You're a _really_ great friend," Elsa said softly. "You know that?"

Jack gulped.

 _Wince._

"Uh—yeah. Friend," Jack choked, forcing a smile. "Thanks."

They stared into each other's eyes for a long, silent moment.

Fidgeting with her fingers, Elsa gave a little shrug.

"I just—I just wish there was a way to—prepare for this," Elsa admitted sheepishly. "I mean, with the councils and court and such, there's a set agenda. There's a procedure, and—you follow it. You can't know _exactly_ what to expect, but at least you have the general idea before you go in."

He raised his eyebrows. "Like—you want a way to practice?" he said, "Would that calm you down?"

"It's a shame there isn't one," she sighed.

Jack shifted his fingers on the staff, looking down and kicking at the carpet. Pulling in his breath, he looked up to her slowly.

"What if—there _was_ a way to practice?" he asked carefully.

She paused, a look of confusion sweeping her face. "What do you mean?"

"Ever role-played before, Snowflake?"

Elsa let out a nervous laugh. " _Role play?"_ she scoffed. "What, are you going to find me a _practice_ suitor, or something?"

"How about me?"

Elsa jolted.

" _You?"_ she breathed.

"Aw, come on," Jack chuckled, walking away from her to the door, "It'll be fun."

Reaching the end of the long carpet, right in front of the enormous wooden doors to the throne room, Jack stopped. Drawing himself up, he spun around to face her.

"I will start off by snootily _swooping_ into the room," he proclaimed, rolling his hand through the air, "And bowing before you… _Queen Ella."_

He swept into a deep, dramatic bow, his white hair falling forward and almost touching the floor. She blushed, giving him a tiny curtsy.

"And I will return the greeting," she retorted softly, raising an eyebrow, "While quietly correcting you on my name."

"At which point I will frantically fumble for my notes…"

Jack awkwardly acted out that he was ruffling a large jacket, pulling out an invisible piece of paper and slyly checking it. Elsa laughed, and a wave of relief swept over him as he tucked the invisible notes away and threw down the shepherd's crook, sweeping up to her.

" _Queen_ _Elsie_ —"

"—Elsa."

"Elsita!"

" _Elsa."_

" _Elphaba!"_

"ELSA."

" _Queen Elsa,"_ he said dramatically, taking her hand and falling onto his left knee as she restrained from laughing again, "I know that this is fast and we just met, but I just want you to know that: _I love you."_

She giggled, raising a single eyebrow. "Oh, your royal _highness!_ Is that _so?"_

"Oh, _yes!_ And it has _absolutely NOTHING_ to do with the fact that your kingdom is _really, really wealthy!"_

They both burst out laughing, and Jack's heart leapt, seeing Elsa's face relaxing again. Her anxious expression melting into a smile, the Snow Queen's deep blue eyes went soft as they gazed into his own, the frosty ice crystals on her crown sparkling in the morning sunlight through a few stands of thick blonde hair.

Jack's jaw slackened.

"So—your _majesty,"_ Elsa giggled, "We're to be forming an alliance, then?"

He jolted, snapping back into focus and letting out a nervous laugh. "Oh, _yes!"_

She gasped dramatically. "Is this a _proposal_ , my king?"

Elsa looked back down at him, teasingly gazing into his eyes, waiting for his response. Sucking in his breath, Jack took her hand a little firmer, grinning and playfully pulling her closer.

" _Why not?"_

She swept her hand through the air. "Why, we just _met!"_

"Oh, but I _know_ it's true," Jack said, the words beginning to tumble out of his mouth faster and faster as he spoke, "I—I know. I _know,_ Queen Elsa _."_

"Oh, you _do?"_

"I know that it's going to be hard to believe," Jack blurted, his smile fading as he gripped her hand harder, "Because it's been a really short amount of time. But Elsa, I just want you to know that I've never felt this way about anyone, _ever!"_

"Uh—"

"—And if I could have anything, any _wish,_ in this world," he stammered frantically, growing more and more intense as he spoke, "It's that I'd want to have you by my side for the _rest_ of my existence, because you're the most amazing and brilliant and wonderful and _altogether impossibly PERFECT woman for me that I've EVER HAD THE_ _ **INSANE LUCK OF MEETING!"**_

The last of the words tumbling helplessly out of his mouth before he could stop them, Jack was suddenly gasping for breath, staring at the floor. Now gripping her hand so tightly that his knuckles were turning white, as he slowly looked up, he saw that Elsa—frozen in her place—was staring at him in shock.

He gulped.

"Says _…_ the suitor," Jack squeaked.

They stared at each other in silence.

Looking to her hand again in his own, Jack shakily pulled in his breath, feeling blood rushing to his face. Relaxing his grip, he pulled his top hand back off of hers.

"And, then—uh," Jack choked, awkwardly patting her hand as he got onto his feet, "And then—the _suitor_ —would probably add something about duty to his kingdom, and desperately needing to locate a Royal Babymaker."

Elsa jolted, abruptly pulling her hand back and letting out a sharp giggle. " _Jack!"_

"If they got to the point, _that's what they'd_ _say!"_

She scoffed, raising her eyebrows. "If a suitor actually _dared_ say that to me, I'd tell him to get out of my kingdom before I ice-blasted him in the face."

"YES! Good! GOOD response!" Jack laughed nervously, looking for any excuse to change the subject. He leapt forward, grasping Elsa's hands again. "In fact, you know what? DON'T even wait until they say something. Just tell them that, as soon as they walk in!"

"Goodness. How subtle."

"I am a MASTER of subtlety."

She blushed slightly, letting out a breathy laugh. Then, after a few moments, Elsa looked down again, fidgeting with her fingers as her face fell.

"What?" Jack prodded. "What's wrong now?"

She shrugged, biting her lip. "I'm sorry," Elsa breathed, "I'm just—I—!"

Her voice trailed off. As he stepped up in front of her, Elsa nervously looked up into his eyes.

"Jack…" she choked, "I'm _scared_."

A look of confusion swept over his face.

"Scared of what?" Jack sighed. "I'll be here the whole time."

"How can I talk to an _actual suitor_ if I can't even talk to _you?"_

He stiffened.

Ouch.

Trying to ignore her use of the word " _actual_ ," Jack's stomach twisted as he saw the fear creeping back over her features, and he helplessly glanced around the room for ideas. The carpet, the chairs, the countless little end tables lining the hall all provided possibilities, but nothing stuck out. Finally, looking to the windows, he realized that a long, braided gold rope with a tassel on the end was hanging down from the curtain closest to a large, velvet chair.

Ah- _ha!_

"Okay," Jack told her, picking up the capelet and yanking it to the side, "New idea. Come 'ere."

" _Whoop!"_

Elsa was whirled around as the capelet caught, stumbling helplessly behind Jack as he leapt up onto the chair, reaching for the tassel. Spinning around in the glistening fabric, he dramatically swept himself up, pulling the thick, braided gold cord over his shoulder like it was his hair and clearing his throat.

 _"I am Elsa, Queen of Arendelle!"_ Jack squeaked, sweeping the fabric to the side as his voice cracked in the shrill falsetto, " _And I am here to see my many suitors… oh, kiss my regal hands, you hopeless oafs!"_

He flung his wrist out resolutely, throwing his head back as Elsa buckled over with laughter, holding her stomach and leaning onto the armrest of the chair as blood rushed to her face.

His heart leapt.

" _What was that?"_ Jack squealed, dramatically sweeping his hand up to his ear, and then jolting to catch the falling capelet and yank it back up around his body, "Why—why _yes!_ You _may_ bow before my superior _everything!"_

Throwing his head back again, he kicked out his leg, falling off the edge of the chair to land beside Elsa, who was now giggling even harder.

"Why, _Jack Frost!"_ she gasped, clapping her hand over her heart as he paraded around her in the capelet, "I—I had no _idea_ that you were such a _perfect_ body double for me!"

" _Jack Frost?"_ he shrieked, his voice cracking again as he whirled around and batted his eyelashes in the Elsa impression, "Did you say, _Jack Frost?_ You _know_ him?"

She grinned, drawing herself up. "Why, as a matter of fact, I _do!"_ she said slyly. "I find him to be quite charming. And _obnoxious."_

" _Jack Frost?_ That _dreamboat?_ " Jack squeaked dramatically, fanning himself with his hand and sweeping the capelet to the side again, "That shining _pillar_ of masculinity? That untainted, _glistening_ paragon of _pure manliness,_ to whom _none_ of these suitors could _ever_ compare?"

"Okay," Elsa chuckled, raising an eyebrow and stepping back, "Maybe you're a slightly _less_ than perfect body double for me."

Jack stopped, laughing and sticking out his lip as he looked to her. "You don't _think_ so?" he whimpered, dropping his voice back the three octaves down to its normal register, "You don't think I'm a _completely_ convincing Queen Elsa?"

"No, I can't say I do…"

Reaching behind his back and gathering the fabric into his fist, Jack grinned mischievously, dropping his voice to a whisper and flirtatiously gazing into Elsa's eyes.

"Oh. I'm _so sorry,"_ he chuckled.

 _YANK._

He pulled the capelet and hoodie back tight at his waist, the glistening fabric poufing out into an enormous bubble over his hips.

Elsa's face turned beet red.

"How about now?" Jack laughed, swishing the pouf of fabric as he walked forward, "A little more convincing, maybe? I—"

 _Knock knock._

Elsa jolted, spinning around and sucking in her breath. Her face going pale, she looked back to Jack, who abruptly dropped the capelet, letting the fabric softly float to the ground.

"They're _here!"_ she choked. "It's starting! I—"

"— _Will be fine."_

She gulped, biting her lip. Kicking the edge of her capelet aside, Jack leaned in close to her face, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Snowflake, I'll be _right here."_

Jack grinned reassuringly, and Elsa shyly looked up, meeting his gaze again. Smiling weakly herself, she then nodded, turning to walk to the throne and the platform. Picking up his staff and leaping up onto the back of one of the chairs, Jack silently sat down, laying his shepherd's crook across his lap and looking to the door.

 _Showtime._

 _._

 _._

 ** _(ANOTHER)_** **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I can't promise that the draft/hiatus will be done in a week-in fact, I can pretty well promise that it WON'T be-but, if you like, I'd be MORE than happy to start posting** ** _sneak peeks of it_** **about once a week,** ** _until it is done_** **. Would anybody like/want that? Please let me know in the reviews. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a fantabulous day! :)**


	49. Intimidating

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so we're still on drafting hiatus, but** **HERE'S THE NEXT CHRONOLOGICAL CHAPTER** **. (YAY!) It's not very well drafted, for which I apologize, but HEY, IT'S UP. Thanks for tolerating me, and Merry Christmas! :D :D :D**

 **ANOTHER NOTE: Yeah, yeah, I know that William Joyce's Jack Frost is supposed to be fourteen. But (staying true to the MOVIE, not the books!), I firmly believe that if Dreamworks had actually WANTED him to be fourteen, they wouldn't have A) made him look like a young college student, and B) hired THE GUY THAT PLAYS CAPTAIN KIRK for his voice. So... well, I'm making fun of Dreamworks now. Because I can.**

 **.**

 **49: INTIMIDATING**

Turning around on the platform and sitting down on the throne, Elsa drew in a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. The icy fabric of the capelet elegantly swept about her feet glistened in the sunlight, and she smoothed the front of her skirt, silently begging the air around her to _not_ become spontaneously populated with snowflakes. This was going to be fine. This was going to be _just_ fine.

Jack was here.

Elsa jolted as the loud _chu-CHUNK_ of the door closing resounded through the throne room. She snapped her head up, her heart leaping into her throat as her head councilman, Rolf, determinately strode up to the throne platform, a clipboard in his hand and an official-looking scowl on his face.

His gaze trailed downwards, lingering for a moment on the Snow Queen's bare hands, clasped together in her lap.

He looked back up into her eyes.

"Queen Elsa…" he asked carefully, "Where are your gloves?"

Elsa winced inside.

 _Queen Face!_ she thought desperately.

"I am not wearing them today," Elsa forced a smile, drawing herself up before Rolf could respond, "For this set of suitors. There are four audiences today, correct?"

"Oh. Uh," he stammered, suddenly remembering why he had come, "Actually, there has been some rescheduling, your majesty."

"Rescheduling? Are there more?"

"On the contrary, my Queen," Rolf sighed, looking down to the clipboard and pulling up the top page, "There were two suitors—well, a suitor and a representative—that were unable to make it today. We received word of their delays earlier this morning."

 _YES! YES YES YES YES YESSSSSS!_

"How unfortunate," Elsa replied. Her heart leaping, she sat a little taller in the throne, sneaking a glance to Jack. He grinned, readjusting himself on top of his staff, which was standing straight up in the carpet with him perched on top.

 _How DOES he do that?_

"The first suitor's representative became ill two nights ago," Rolf explained, making Elsa snap back into focus, "But King Linus of Buskeland will be represented in two days' time. And your third audience, scheduled with Prince Fredrik of Kingsley, is having to be rescheduled due to unexpected delays on the road."

"I see," she nodded. "As for the others?"

"Ah, yes." Rolf flipped back to the first page. "That leaves you with two for today. The first is the Duke of Brondhiem, representing Prince Anders of Brondhiem. Prince Anders in second in line to the throne in his own kingdom, and even though he is thirty years old, he has not yet wed."

She nodded. Brondhiem was a fairly strong kingdom. "And the second?"

"Prince Linus," Rolf nodded. "He's—a little younger."

Elsa looked at him skeptically. "Younger?" she asked. "How much younger are we talking about, here? Surely, you put an age minimum at eighteen."

"My Queen." He drew himself up, measuring his words carefully. "When one has personal responsibilities to the kingdom, it is sometimes necessary to—"

"— _How. Much. Younger?"_

Rolf pressed his lips together. After a few moments, he pulled in a deep breath.

"Prince Linus is fourteen years old."

The words hit her like a ton of bricks.

" _Fourteen?!"_ Elsa choked.

There was a tiny _thump_ , and Elsa glanced to the side. Jack had hopped down off of his staff, bouncing into the air and flying over to the center carpet of the throne room. Floating over Rolf's shoulder, he stared down at the clipboard for a few seconds, his eyes widening before he let out a sharp bark of laughter in disbelief.

"Yep. Fourteen years old," Jack chuckled bitterly, glancing up to her. "And this portrait of the kid— _wow."_

"Your majesty," Rolf started again, gripping the clipboard to his chest as Jack invisibly dropped back down onto the floor behind him, "We know that he's a little younger than would be desired, but—"

"—A _little?!"_ Elsa exclaimed.

"But given the political atmosphere," Rolf continued, slightly louder, "The Council believed that it would be a good way to—well, to smooth over some rough patches that Arendelle has had with the Southern Isles in the last year."

"The Southern Isles?" she asked quizzically, "What are you _talking_ about? We have a _very_ strong treaty with them! I mean, it wasn't exactly formed in ideal circumstances, but I—um—"

Rolf raised his eyebrows. Her face going pale, Elsa's voice trailed off.

"Wait," she squeaked, "You—you aren't saying that—"

He nodded solemnly.

"They're cousins, your highness," Rolf said.

Her mouth fell open in shock.

Her heart sinking into her stomach, Elsa closed her eyes, pulling in a long, ragged breath. Gritting her teeth, she slowly exhaled, sitting forward on the throne and looking into her councilman's gaze again.

"Are you meaning to tell me," Elsa gritted, struggling to keep her voice even, "That you have set me up with the _fourteen-year-old cousin—_ of _Prince Hans!?"_

Rolf's cheeks flushed. Quickly hiding it, he drew himself up, glaring down the end of his nose the best he could with her sitting above him on the platform.

" _Queen Elsa,"_ he enunciated, "You of _all_ people should be aware that it's difficult finding suitors who would be willing to overlook—"

"—My ice powers?"

He pressed his lips together, pulling in his breath.

"The Summer Freeze wasn't exactly a _secret,_ my queen," he said coldly. "Surely, you must understand why such a— _risk_ —would be intimidating to most men."

"A risk of getting near me, you mean."

"Well—yes," he nodded. "And you can see why that would—"

"—Be intimidating to suitors? Yes, I suppose I can!" she snapped, "Which brings us back to the matter of _why I need to be seeing suitors at all."_

"Queen Elsa! We have _discussed_ this!"

" _Excuse_ me? _"_

"After the Freeze—"

"It was an _accident!"_

"Which is _exactly_ why your suitors would feel _safer_ if you were wearing your—"

 _"—I WILL NOT BE WEARING GLOVES!"_ Elsa shrieked.

A long, cold silence fell over the room as Rolf stared at her in shock.

Her heart pounding, Elsa's chest rose up and down rapidly as she gasped for breath, stunned by the unintentional ferocity of her own voice. Shifting uncomfortably on the throne, she anxiously glanced to Jack, who was still sitting perched atop his staff by the mantle.

He grinned.

 _"You tell 'im_ , Snowflake," Jack chuckled softly.

Feeling blood rushing to her face, Elsa looked to her lap, clenching her hands tightly together and then relaxing them. Then, stretching out her fingers, she pulled in her breath, glaring back into the Councilman's eyes.

"I—will _not,"_ she repeated slowly, " _Be wearing gloves."_

The silence fell again. Swallowing hard, Elsa snuck a glance at Jack again.

"Hey, don't look at me," he chuckled, adjusting himself atop the staff. "I'm invisible, remember?"

Elsa shifted on the throne again. She glanced to the Councilman again, and then back to Jack, and—

"Oh _,_ " Jack corrected quickly, realizing what she meant. "Uh _…_ let's see… _I don't believe it's necessary for me to wear gloves."_

"I don't believe it's necessary for me to wear gloves," Elsa repeated, looking back to Rolf with an expression of relief sweeping over her face.

 _"Because that's a part of who I used to be,"_ he prompted _._

"Because that's a part of who I used to be."

 _"And the past is in the past."_

"And the past is in the past."

" _And I hate you."_

"And I hate—!"

Rolf raised his eyebrows, and Elsa froze, catching the last of the phrase just before it fell off the tip of her tongue. Blushing at the few rogue flurries materializing out of the air around her, she sucked in a quick breath to start again, struggling to regain her composure.

"And—I _have,"_ Elsa corrected shakily, sitting up taller in the throne, "My powers completely under control."

Rolf's eyes slid upwards to the flurries. Looking back down into her eyes, while visibly restraining from rolling his own, he then pressed his lips together, gripping the clipboard.

"I certainly hope you do," Rolf sneered. He nodded, bowing slightly, his eyes not smiling with his mouth.

 _"My Queen,"_ he sneered.

Elsa didn't move.

Without saying another word, Rolf then abruptly spun around, pacing for the doors. Pulling one of them open, he stomped through, disappearing into the hallway as it swung shut after him.

 _Boom._

Before Elsa even had a chance to relax, it was suddenly swinging open again to the sound of a trumpeting fanfare.

" _REPRESENTING_ PRINCE ANDERS OF BRONDHIEM," a voice announced, " _THE DUKE OF BRONDHIEM_. _"_

Elsa drew herself up, her heart pounding as a tall, blonde man in his mid-thirties marched into the room, holding an official-looking scroll. Seeing a sparkling something in the corner of her eye, she snuck another glance to the side.

Jack raised his eyebrows in question, glancing to the tiny snowflake hovering over his fingertips, and then looking back into Elsa's eyes. The blonde man pulled off his hat, and Elsa quickly nodded at Jack as the duke swept into a formal bow.

Jack flicked the snowflake towards her.

"Queen Elsa," the duke began, "It is an honor to meet you."

She stood from the throne, clasping her hands tightly in front of her skirt. As she pulled in a shaky breath to speak, trying to will her vocal cords to function, Elsa felt a tiny puff of cold hit her neck, a faint blue sparkle twinkling in her vision.

Elsa exhaled, her face and shoulders relaxing as the sudden feeling of relief washed over her.

"Likewise, sir," she said softly.

In her peripheral vision, Elsa saw Jack hop down from his staff, snatching it from the air and letting it fall back onto his shoulder. He grinned, sauntering over to the carpet by the duke as he pulled open the scroll.

"Well, _well,"_ Jack chuckled, "Let's see what we've got _here!"_

"I must take this moment to formally apologize on behalf of my superior, Prince Anders," the duke stated emotionlessly. "But I have been entrusted with a letter from his hand to be read to you in person. If I may."

"Of course," Elsa replied.

Jack snorted, walking around to the duke's side and dropping his staff onto the carpet.

The duke clicked his boots together, clearing his throat and holding the scroll out in front of himself. Pressing his chin into his neck and sucking in a dramatic breath, Jack did the same in imitation.

" _To Queen Elsa of Arendelle_ ," the duke read, " _Or, as she is otherwise known: The Snow Queen."_

 _"Dear Potential Babymaker,"_ Jack Frost announced.

Elsa smiled in spite of herself, rolling her eyes at Jack as the duke looked back to the scroll and continued.

" _It is with deepest admiration that I begin this letter_ ," he read, " _For I have heard rumor of the Snow Queen's grace and beauty."_

"I'm so romantic that I'm not going to show up to court you myself," Jack translated, side-stepping the duke and sweeping into a dramatic bow. "But, even though I've never met you, I've been told you're hot. Be flattered."

Elsa clasped her hands tightly in front of her skirt, struggling to control herself.

 _Queen Face! Queen Face! Queen Face!_ she thought desperately.

The duke unrolled the scroll slightly. _"It has come to the attention of my father, the reigning King of Brondhiem, that there is a distinct possibility that my older brother, the current heir to the throne, will not sire an heir."_

"So," Jack chuckled, imitating the duke's voice again, "I need to bed somebody—"

 _"My father's council believes it to therefore be expedient that I find a suitable wife as quickly as possible."_

"Because my daddy's friends told me I should."

Elsa jolted. Jack smirked at her expression, shrugging as she restrained from a snort and walking to the duke's other side.

 _"My intent, therefore, is to propose the formation of an alliance between the kingdoms of Arendelle and Brondhiem through our marriage,"_ the duke read on _. "It should interest you to know that the kingdom of Brondhiem has a healthy economy, primarily due to our exports in fishing and woodworking. My father's council assures me that our finances are well—"_

"—Because I've never checked them myself—"

 _"—And that this would be the best of all possible times to be seeking a formation of a new alliance. My father's council has also recommended that I seek an alliance with Arendelle, specifically because of its location and tradeable natural resources."_

"And because I'm a figurehead."

Elsa bit down hard on her lip, trying to keep a straight face.

 _"I have been informed of your keen interest in financial growth and economic interdependence between local kingdoms."_

"I believe whatever I'm told."

 _"If you were to see Brondhiem, I am certain that you would find it most pleasing. It would without question be a respectable marriage, and my father's council approves highly of your political history, excluding the events of last July. However, given that this was a one-time occurrence, as your councilmen assure me, I cannot see why it could not be overlooked, in favor of pursuing matters more vital to the kingdom's future, such as the siring of an heir."_

"Yada yada yada, ice powers bad _,_ sleep with me."

Elsa let out a sharp giggle of shock.

The duke stopped reading, blankly looking up from the scroll in surprise and raising his eyebrows. Frantically gathering her senses, Elsa gulped.

"I—I'm t-terribly sorry," she said, "Just—um—a little congestion. Do go on, sir."

She coughed into her hand, innocently gazing into his eyes in hopes of proving her point. As the duke pulled in his breath, adjusting the scroll again, Jack Frost chuckled, flipping his staff over his wrist and sitting down on it in the air, looking to her good-naturedly.

" _See_ , Snowflake?" Jack laughed softly. "You're doing _great_. We're just going to have some fun with these guys."

 _._

 _._

Throughout the remainder of the audience with the duke, it became darkly apparent to Jack that his sarcastic translation of the prince's letter was _far_ more accurate than he'd originally intended it to be.

Elsa, of course, had been inhumanly polite and cordial to the man, despite the fact that he had the same basic answer to every question she asked for the remainder of the audience. This general answer (conveyed more by what he _didn't_ say than what he did) was that Prince Anders had made no real achievements in his life besides that of his actual birth, and that he was the standard model of a Royal Figurehead whose opinions were defined by what his father's council told him they should be. By all accounts, he was no match for Elsa. And— _despite_ her perfect manners—it was obvious to Jack that the Snow Queen was something _less_ than infatuated with Brondhiem's prince.

Good.

As soon as the duke had exited, the door swinging shut with a boom, Jack hopped down from off of his staff again.

"Well," he scoffed, " _That_ was unfathomably boring."

Elsa let out her breath. "Brondhiem's a strong kingdom," she sighed. "If I had been given _any_ reason to believe that Prince Anders was working to influence some sort of change, it might have actually been a respectable alliance to consider. It's too bad that his political agendas are so vague."

"Yeah," Jack nodded solemnly, restraining from a smirk. "It's a real shame."

"Thank you. By the way," Elsa said suddenly, making him snap back into focus as she turned and stepped back up onto the platform. "It was a lot easier with you here."

"Anytime, Snowflake. Oh, and—and just so you know," he added, glancing to her sparkling capelet as she spun around, gracefully sweeping into the throne, " _I'm_ not intimidated by your ice powers. At all."

She smiled weakly. "Thanks, Jack."

"No. Seriously," he chuckled, "I feel like I'm watching a line of house cats trying to hit on a lion."

To this, Elsa giggled slightly, raising her eyebrows. "And I'm the lion, in a world full of house cats?" she laughed. "Then who do you think _should_ be trying to court me?"

Jack raised a single eyebrow, grinning mischievously.

"Well—I dunno, ma'am," he whispered. "How about another lion?"

Elsa's eye widened.

Before she could respond, the door into the throne room was swinging open again, the dull creaking drowned out by a trumpeted fanfare.

"PRINCE LINUS, OF THE SOUTHERN ISLES."

Jack stepped back out of Elsa's way, looking to the front of the throne room just as a chubby, ruddy-faced fourteen-year-old boy stumbled through the doors. Nearly tripping over his feet, he came to a stop, swallowing hard as the door was pulled shut behind him.

 _Boom._

And his face went pale.

A few moments went by in silence as the young prince and the Snow Queen stared at each other from across the length of the throne room, mutually horrified. His mouth falling open in shock, Jack let out a breathy bark of laughter, taking a few steps back.

" _Wow_ ," he breathed.

 _You've gotta be kidding me._

Just as Jack was turning back to face her, readying another snarky comment to try to ease the situation, the Snow Queen drew herself up.

"I—!"

The prince jolted, sucking in his breath, and she abruptly snapped her mouth shut. Jack watched in silence as she adjusted herself on the throne, closing her eyes and then opening them, she tried again.

"If—if it's any consolation," Elsa said carefully, "I don't particularly want to be here, either."

Silence.

Clearly wincing in the fourteen-year-old's wide-eyed stare, Jack saw Elsa swallow hard, clasping her hands tightly together in her lap.

"Wait," the prince choked, "I… really?"

Queen Elsa nodded.

Prince Linus looked down to his feet, shifting uncomfortably in the suitjacket. "B-b-but I'm supposed to—"

"—You don't have to."

"Wouldn't they be mad?"

"Oh, I imagine so," Elsa said casually, standing from the throne and smoothing her skirt, "If they found out. Which they don't have to."

"Aren't they going to ask how I was?"

"Undoubtedly." She smiled reassuringly, walking forward and stepping down off of the platform, dropping her voice to a whisper. "And _I'll_ tell them that you were sweet and gentlemanly, and that I rejected you because you're not yet eighteen."

A look of relief swept over Prince Linus's face.

"You—you can—you can _do_ that?" he breathed.

"It's a private audience, isn't it?"

The boy's face broke into a smile, and he stumbled back a step, clapping his hand over his heart. "Oh my gosh," he gasped gratefully, "I—that— _thank you!_ "

Jack restrained from a snort.

Elsa glanced to him, and he bit down hard on his lip, trying to keep from bursting out laughing. Clearly restraining from a giggle herself as she walked forward, Elsa stepped down off of the platform, gesturing to one of the chairs on the side of the room.

"Would you care to sit down, Prince Linus?" she asked. "For as long as we have this audience, if we're going to make them believe that you actually tried to court me—"

"—NO belief is _that_ powerful," Jack muttered.

Elsa closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts as she restrained from another laugh.

"Um—then we need to wait for a few minutes before I can see you out," she finished kindly, looking to the nervous prince.

He nodded, pulling in a long breath and tugging uncomfortably at his suitjacket again. Without saying a word, he then spun on his heel, marching to the couch.

Jack saw Elsa sneak a quick glance back at him, raising her eyebrows and smiling in their private joke as the boy sat down. The prince was tugging at his jacket again, sitting up at straight as he could on the squishy couch and trying to appear calm as Elsa, her long, icy capelet billowing behind her across the carpet, swept over to the chair beside him.

"So," Elsa started, gracefully turning around and taking a seat, "How is your schooling going? Do you have a favorite subject?"

"I—uh," the boy stammered, "I don't really like schooling."

Jack grinned, shaking his head as he flipped his staff over his wrist, sitting down on it in the air and crossing his right ankle over his opposite knee.

"Ah," Elsa choked.

The silence fell again as she and the young prince simultaneously looked down into their laps, trying to think of something else to say. His ruddy cheeks flushing, Prince Linus shifted uncomfortably on the couch, eying the ice crystals on Elsa's skirt with terrified awe.

 _Man, kiddo,_ Jack Frost thought, _If I didn't feel so bad for you, this would be hilarious._

" _So—_ um," Elsa tried to start again, making the prince jump, "What _do_ you like to do, then? Any hobbies?"

"Oh! Yeah!" he exclaimed, "I—I'm really into hunting."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. I like BIG game. Like, bears. And _deer!"_ the prince bubbled, "Like, when you get up _really close_ to them, and you've got perfect aim, and then it's like, BLAM! And their HEADS explode, and it's like, _pa-chewwwww,_ and the brains spew everywhere, and there's a lot of blood, and—"

The prince glanced back to Elsa, suddenly noticing that her face had gone pale, and that she was now sitting rigidly on the couch next to him, hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

Oh, cringe.

As the fourteen-year-old prince blushed a deep shade of red, uncomfortably adjusting himself in his suitjacket, Jack let out his breath, shaking his head and grinning at the boy.

 _I am embarrassed FOR you, little man._

"Oh—I," Elsa squeaked, making the prince jump and look back up into her eyes, "That—um—that sounds very—"

Jack leaned slightly forward to hear.

" _Masculine_ ," Elsa choked.

After a few seconds, the comment sinking in, the prince relaxed again. Blood rushing to his chubby cheeks, he pulled at the edge of his suitjacket, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Wow. You're—really nice. And pretty," he stammered. Elsa smiled kindly, and he let out another anxious giggle. "I just—I thought you'd be—"

He cut himself off, his blush deepening in its hue. After a few moments, Elsa raised her eyebrows, leaning towards him, and Prince Linus cringed.

"Thought I'd be _what?"_ she prompted softly.

"Um…" The prince drew in a deep breath, hesitantly looking up into Elsa's eyes.

 _"_ Scarier?" he squeaked.

Elsa's eyes widened.

" _Scarier?"_ she gasped. "Why would I be scary?"

"Well—you know. Like, when you get mad," he blurted, "I mean, like—like last July—when your sister was going to get married before you, and you got mad, and froze everything?"

Elsa's mouth fell open in shock.

" _Got mad?"_ she sputtered, "I wasn't _mad!_ And, I was concerned because Princess Anna was about to marry a man she'd just met! It had _nothing_ to do with her being first to wed!"

"But you froze everything!"

"It was an _accident!"_

"Well, that's not what my cousin Hans—"

 _"—YOUR_ _ **COUSIN HANS**_ _CAN GO TO—"_

The prince winced in terror as Elsa abruptly cut herself off, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling in a long, shaky breath. Despite her calm, controlled demeanor, as a few stray flurries of snow began to materialize out of the air around her, Jack could see that Elsa's teeth were clenched together in fury.

Geez.

Whoever he was, Elsa did _not_ like this Hans guy.

After a few moments, letting out her breath, the Snow Queen drew herself up again, struggling to regain her composure. "Your—you cousin Hans and I have had some—misunderstandings," she said carefully. "But I'm certain that we could work out our differences if we tried."

Forcing a smile, she elegantly crossed her legs, the long slit in her skirt falling open across her pale skin.

Seeing it, Prince Linus's eyes bulged. He shifted on the couch, his mouth falling open in shock, eying the now exposed bit of leg as Jack's eyes narrowed.

 _Don't even THINK about it, kiddo._

"El—um, Queen Elsa," the prince corrected quickly, looking back up into her eyes as she sat back up on the chair, getting onto her feet, "So—if you're not married yet—well, I'm actually fourteen and a _half,_ and I'll be turning eighteen in—"

"—DOWN, boy!" Jack Frost exclaimed.

" _Oh!_ I—aaaaah," Elsa squeaked, blushing furiously as he got up as well, the top of his head barely reaching her shoulder, "Um—you'll be the first to know."

The prince nodded eagerly. Gathering his courage, he then stepped forward to her, picking up Elsa's hand.

"It's been—an _honor_ ," he breathed. "Queen Elsa."

Jack's eyebrows lifted as Prince Linus brought Elsa's hand to his lips, kissing it.

And then again.

And again. And then kissing her wrist. And her arm. And—

"That's—um, I—could you— _okay!_ " Elsa stammered forcefully, pulling her hand away from the boy, "I think that's enough, don't you?"

Jack suppressed another laugh as the boy stepped back, eagerly looking up into her eyes, yet still visibly relieved from _not_ having to try to propose to the twenty-one-year-old Snow Queen. With a satisfied grin, Prince Linus nodded, turning away and marching from through the doors out into the hallway.

 _Boom._

Jack hopped down off the shepherd's crook, and Queen Elsa closed her eyes, her face relaxing as she slowly let out her breath. Being careful not to startle her, Jack let his staff fall back onto his shoulder, laughing softly under his breath as he came up to her side.

"Just so you know," Jack chuckled, "Elsa—you're. _Angelic."_

She turned to face him, her shoulders relaxing in relief. "He was just as scared as I was," Elsa sighed. "I was just trying to be polite."

"That was _beyond_ polite, Snowflake," he scoffed, "You made it seem like you were _legitimately thankful_ to have the audience. Like, he was doing you some sort of _favor,_ or something."

Elsa fidgeted with her fingers, twisting her heel into the carpet as Jack stopped beside her, dropping the end of his staff into the carpet and leaning into it.

"Well," she admitted, "In a way, I—I suppose he did."

A look of confusion swept over his face. "What do you mean?"

"Because—whether or not he knows it—Prince Linus just gave me a _fantastic_ idea," Elsa whispered, leaning slightly forward to Jack. "And I know _exactly_ how I'm going to get rid of the rest of my suitors."

"How is that?"

Elsa smiled mischievously, turning away from him and whisking her capelet behind her. Jack watched in wonder as she threw her arms out to the sides, blasting the chairs around her with large, violent spikes of ice, gleaming as she swept down the carpet towards the throne platform.

A sly little smirk began to spread across Jack's face.

"I believe I can see where this is going," he chuckled. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Whirling around on the platform, Elsa grinned wickedly, sweeping her hand over her head. A spiked, vicious-looking crown made of ice materialized out of the air on top of it, and she sat down regally in the now icicle-covered throne, glaring down the end of her nose as it settled into her thick hair.

"It can be a— _terrifying_ —prospect," Elsa drawled, her eyebrow twitching, "For those naive, _foolish_ little men who _dare_ to come court the _Evil Snow Queen_."


	50. Fangirl

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Once again, we're still on Drafting Hiatus, but my Christmas Present to Me was allowing myself to write the next chronological chapter anyway. Like the last, this really isn't drafted (I am SO sorry!), but I felt like putting it up anyway. You are all fantastic, thanks for reading, HUGE thank you to the WONDERFUL people who have reviewed, and I hope you have a fantabulous day! :)**

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 **50: FANGIRL**

" _NOTHING!"_

Elsa groaned in frustration, slamming the back cover of the volume of court transcripts shut. After the morning audiences and duties, they had joined Princess Anna for lunch, but now—forty-five minutes of political debate, one snowball fight, an afternoon of research, and seven waltzes later—Elsa and Jack were once again in the library.

"You know what _you_ need?" Jack suggested, " _You_ need to have some snow fort time. Or we could race sleds. Or maybe another snowball fight—"

"— _Noooooooo_ ," Elsa groaned, burying her face in her hands as she leaned onto the table, "What I _need_ is statistics. I need funding, time, and interest, so that I can _get_ the research I need, to _get_ the support I need, to _get_ everyone to pay attention to the whole situation, _to get this confounded reform ROLLING, ALREADY!"_

And she collapsed her head forward onto the table.

 _BANG._

As long, delicate spirals of frost began to slowly swirl out from where her forehead was touching the tabletop, Jack restrained from a laugh. Shaking his head and grinning quietly to himself, he swept his hand through the air.

The glistening snowflake danced and twinkled as it floated across the bench, landing on the nape of Elsa's neck. With a faint blue sparkle bursting over her skin, Jack watched her muscles relax, her tense shoulders sinking slightly as she let out her breath.

"Thanks," she whimpered.

"Anytime, Snowflake."

She nodded weakly, pushing herself back up and resting her chin on her fist. Sinking into it, flicking the edge of the enormous book with her finger, she sadly looked back up into his eyes.

'I mean," she said quietly, "This—I'm not just on a wild goose chase here, am I? This is _really_ happening? It's really as common as you say?"

"Yeah," Jack sighed. "But don't worry. We'll find the research you need."

"We had certainly better," Elsa retorted, "Because what I'm _currently_ going off of as evidence is a combination of your word, and my complete lack of faith in humanity."

"Which makes for a surprisingly strong argument."

" _Gaaaurgh—"_

 _"—Kidding,_ Snowflake."

She sat up straight again, reaching for the volume of court records and pulling it back towards herself across the table.

"Well," she shrugged, "If there's _one_ thing that we've figured out, it's that a reform is _required._ I mean, I don't know about you, but I'd say that our total _lack_ of evidence is pretty good evidence itself."

"Agreed."

Elsa's eyebrows lifted as Jack shoved his chair back, getting onto his feet. He groaned, stretching his hands into the air. " _Weeeeeeeelp,"_ he chuckled, letting out his breath as he dropped them back to his sides, "I don't know about you, but _I'm_ ready for another break."

"But we just—"

"—That was over an hour ago, Snowflake."

"Really?"

She looked upwards to the skylight, and Jack restrained from a laugh as an expression of shock swept over her face, seeing that the early afternoon sky was already lavender with sunset.

"How long before we've got to go to dinner?" he asked.

"We probably have another couple hours or so," Elsa sighed. She looked back to the volume of records on the table in front of her, finding her place with her finger.

A few seconds passed by in silence.

Pulling in his breath, Jack bit the edge of his lip.

"I was—okay, you know those— _records—_ you researched me in?" he ventured, measuring his words carefully.

She looked up from her volume. "The psychiatric case files?"

"No, _before_ that," he corrected. "I mean—stories. You started on stories, didn't you? Like—oh, whats-his-face—the professor?"

Elsa raised her eyebrows. "Borstad?"

"Yeah. Him." Jack pulled in his breath, stepping back from the table and sticking his hands into his front pocket. "I—I was kinda wondering if there was—more?"

Elsa glanced down to the records, contemplating the statement. After a few moments, the tiniest hint of a smile twitched out of the side of her mouth.

"Oh," she laughed softly, raising her eyebrows again, "There is— _definitely—_ more Jack Frost material in this library."

The Snow Queen leaned forward onto her fist, her piercingly blue eyes practically sparkling as she gazed up at him, the snowflakes in her hair catching the sunlight.

Jack's breath caught.

"Why?" Elsa asked suddenly.

"Oh—uh," he laughed nervously, a little blood rushing to his face as he snapped back into focus, "I—I was just—sorta curious. You know."

"You want to see what people have written about you?"

Jack shifted on his feet, awkwardly kicking at the carpet. Looking up, he let out another nervous laugh, a self-conscious smile creeping over his face.

"Yeah," he muttered.

Elsa shrugged, twisting around on her seat to face him. "It makes perfect sense," she said kindly. "And, there _are_ quite a few interpretations of—well, of you."

"So," he asked, "You wouldn't mind if I—?"

"—Not at all."

Jack let out his breath, easing his toes underneath his staff on the carpet and kicking it into his hands. Flipping it back over his shoulder, he turned away from the table, walking towards the towering bookshelves.

"You're going the wrong way."

Jack paused, turning back to her. Elsa shifted on the bench, nodding to the side.

"The—um—most of the Jack Frost commentaries are in the other direction. Downstairs, in the open part of the library," she explained. "You know, with the classical mythology stuff. I haven't been in the open-access part of the library for a while, but at least, the commentaries usually ended up getting shelved in the same place," she said quickly. "Most of it's back on the less popular side. If you go past all of those bookshelves past the door, there'll be another door on the wall. Go through that one, down the hall, and then it'll take you to the stairs. They let out through a private exit that leads into the open part of the library."

"Oh. Great," Jack nodded. "Thanks."

She beamed, looking back to the volume of court records as he turned around, starting to walk towards the row of bookshelves, After a few moments, he came to a stop, slowly looking back to her.

"Um… Elsa? Just... just wondering," Jack said carefully, turning back around as she looked up from the book, "Do you happen to remember what shelf it's on?"

"Oh, yes!" she said excitedly, "Almost all of the Jack Frost material is on aisle R9, fairly close to the bottom. It should be about three shelves up, and the most relevant commentary is about two-thirds of the way…"

Jack was smiling, leaning onto his staff and raising his eyebrows.

"About… um," Elsa squeaked. "About two-thirds of the way down… on the left?"

She bit her lip, swallowing hard and staring into her lap with embarrassment. After a few moments, she pulled in her breath.

"I… think," Elsa choked.

A few flurries of snow began to materialize out of the air around her. Jack smiled sheepishly, leaning into his staff and seeing the color rising to Elsa's cheeks.

 _Dawwwww…_

"Wow," he chuckled, dropping his voice to a whisper. " _That specific_ , huh?"

Elsa shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "Maybe I just have a really great memory."

"Mmm. That's gotta be it."

He looked at her flirtatiously, picking up his staff and letting it fall back onto his shoulder as he walked back towards the table. Elsa gave her head a quick shake.

"You were a _storybook character_ with _ice powers!"_ she protested, blushing a deeper and deeper red as he came up to her, "I mean, all that time _alone_ , and I was scared, and then there was you, and I—"

"— _Casually_ became Arendelle's leading authority on Jack Frost."

She closed her eyes, as if in pain, staring into her lap again. Shifting his fingers on the staff, Jack turned around in front of the bench, silently sitting down next to her, with his back against the table.

"Hey."

Elsa kept determinately staring into her lap. Jack let out his breath.

"Look at me."

She swallowed hard, biting the edge of her lip. Brushing her arm with the back of his hand, Jack dropped his voice to a whisper.

"Elsa—look. You were _lonely_. I— _get—_ loneliness. Okay?" he said softly as she looked up. "I'm just giving you a hard time. Can I leave this here?"

A smile twitching out of the side of his mouth, Jack stretched his foot out, easing it under his shepherd's crook in the carpet. Kicking it into the air, he caught it, and she snapped her head up, her eyes bulging.

"Your _staff?"_ Elsa gasped. "Are you sure?"

"Well… I need both hands for the books. Right?" Jack shrugged. "And, I think you'll keep an eye on it. Won't you?"

He smiled knowingly, peering up at her through his eyelashes as he reached around her, dropping the shepherd's crook in front of her on the table with a clatter. Elsa opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out as he straightened up and stepped back from the table. Restraining from a laugh at her expression, Jack Frost then spun around, walking for the wall by the bookcases.

As soon as he was out of sight behind the first bookcase, he stopped, walking straight down the aisle. Rolling his feet so that he didn't make any sound in the carpet, he walked faster, nearly running for the other end of the bookcase.

Taking a moment to try to calm his racing heart, Jack slowly walked to the edge of the bookcase, struggling to keep his breathing even. Pressing his back against the bookcase's end, he held his breath, slowly peering around the corner.

At the table in the grand, open section of the library beneath the skylight, Elsa was still sitting, frozen, on the bench, staring at the shepherd's crook in front of her. Jack then watched as she hunched over by the edge of the table, the ice particles on her dress sparkling as she hesitantly reached forward to the staff with her pointer finger.

 _Tap._

Clapping her hand over her mouth, Elsa jumped, anxiously looking around to make sure she was still alone.

She stood up, silently pushing back the bench and leaning over the table. Holding her breath, she bit the edge of her lip, gingerly reaching out and picking up the staff.

Her eyes wide, Jack watched as the young queen sat back onto the bench, turning the old shepherd's crook over in her hands as if she was handling a sacred relic. Her eyes glazing over, she giggled breathily in disbelief, shaking her head as she traced her fingers down its length.

After a few more moments of awestruck silence, Elsa suddenly snapped back into focus, letting out a self-conscious laugh as blood rushed to her cheeks. Bumping the ice bench back across the carpet again, she abruptly stood up, adjusting her grip on the staff. Jack Frost then watched as she leaned all the way over the table, the snowflakes on back of her skirt sparkling in the sunlight as she carefully began to lower the staff back into its place.

 _Clunk!_

Elsa gasped, sucking in her breath as she accidentally dropped the staff, its straight end smacking the tabletop. A shimmering layer of frost flowered over the surface of the wood, and she froze, her eyes widening in shock.

Still frozen in her place, Elsa looked back to the staff. Drawing in a long, shaky breath, she then silently lifted the shepherd's crook up again, stepping back from the table.

Jack gasped and leapt back out of sight as she nervously glanced around the room. His heart pounding as he pressed his back into the end of the bookcase, he waited for a few seconds, then hesitantly peering back around the edge again.

Her long, sparkling capelet trailing behind her on the floor, Elsa was now standing back a few feet from the table, gently tossing the staff in her hands. Closing her eyes, she pulled in a deep breath, sweeping the staff through the air.

 _Shinggg!_

Elsa gasped as a swirl of snowflakes swept through the air, ice particles shooting forward over the carpet and catching the sunlight as they fell. Looking back down to the staff, she let out another breathy giggle, stumbling back a step. Biting her lip excitedly and adjusting her hold again, she then gracefully swung the staff in the other direction.

 _Shinggg!_

Another elegant, glistening streamer of snowflakes flew through the air, and Elsa laughed, jumping back with a tiny squeak of delight. His heart pounding, Jack eagerly watched as she looked down at the staff, then pulling her arm back and sweeping it forward.

 _Shinggg! Shing Shing! SHINGGG!_

Shot after shot of glistening snowflakes erupted into the air, and with the angelic, ringing sound of her laughter peeling through the library, Jack's heart leapt as he watched the Ice Powers Girl spin around and around, her arms outstretched, giggling with delight as she sent streamer after streamer of sparkling frost shooting out of the end of the shepherd's crook.

Jack's heart swelled, and he straightened up, grinning dazedly as he leaned his head back against the end of the bookcase. Closing his eyes, he sank down a little against it, letting out a contented sigh. She was so beautiful when she was smiling…

He glanced back towards the open part of the library, smiling as his heart swelled again.

 _Have fun, Snowflake._

Shaking his head, Jack pushed himself away from the end of the bookcase, silently reaching up to feel the snowflake medal through the fabric his hoodie. Feeling it for a moment—his heart leaping as he ran his fingers over its hard, icy edge beneath the wool—Jack Frost grinned sheepishly, sticking his hand into his front pocket as he turned to walk back towards the staircase.

Far too soon, he was standing in the doorway, looking down the dimly-lit hallway towards the stairwell. Pausing for a moment, Jack glanced back down the aisle where he had been standing mere moments before, secretly spying on the most wonderful, and—well, okay, honestly _adorable—_ display of fun that he'd seen in a very long time.

A dreamy, vacant smile crept over Jack Frost's features.

Oh, _man,_ the Snow Queen was cute.

.

.

Hearing his triumphant laugh resounding through the library, Elsa gasped and lunged for the table, leaping to the bench and dropping the shepherd's crook back into place. As Jack Frost reappeared from around the corner, his arms filled with books, she had bit down hard on her lip, determinately staring at the volume in front of her and trying to appear casual again. She had of course melted the evidence of her, eh, _distraction_ , from the research, and—for as far as Elsa could tell—Jack Frost hadn't the _faintest_ idea of what had happened.

Oh, thank heavens.

And so, sitting side-by-side on the ice bench again, they studied their separate books as the last of the sunlight above them drained from the sky with his arms around her waist. After a long, calm study in silence—

"HA!"

Elsa startled, whipping around to face him as Jack suddenly stood up, yanking his hand away from her back. Slapping his hand onto the tabletop and leaning over it, he clapped his opposite hand over his eyes, bursting out laughing as he sank back onto the bench.

She shifted on her hips, smoothing her skirt. "Found something interesting?" Elsa laughed.

He pulled his fingers down his face, groaning as he looked to her. Jack's face then cracked into a grin.

"Sorry if I scared ya, Snowflake," he chuckled, "I just—these are _hilarious."_

Elsa shrugged. "Well—as the reigning Queen of Arendelle," she said smoothly, licking the end of her pointer finger, "I'm _delighted_ to hear that you've found reason to enjoy the Royal Records Collection. _Mr. Frost."_

She smiled slyly, raising an eyebrow as he blushed. Elsa then looked back to the table, reaching forward and daintily turning the page of her court records volume.

"But seriously. This stuff is a crack-up," he laughed nervously. "How much of this do you remember?"

"That stuff? Not much," she admitted. Looking back to him. "I was pretty quick to throw out the irrelevant interpretations. I mean—I believed that Jack Frost was _real."_

"Yeah, I appreciate it."

He shot her a flirty grin. Pulling in her breath, Elsa felt a smile tugging at the edge of her mouth, as well.

"So… what are you finding?" she asked.

"OH. Let me _tell_ you!"

Jack leapt onto his feet again, whirling around and leaning back against the edge of the table. Reaching around to the nearest pile, he pulled out a slender book, holding it up.

"According to _this_ ," he scoffed, "I'm a metaphor for the upcoming Western expansion."

"Really."

"Oh, it gets better," he laughed. Elsa watched as Jack snapped the book shut, tossing it onto the pile and picking up another.

He leaned forward, gazing into her eyes and dropping his voice to a whisper. "And according to _this_ guy," he drawled. "I'm a _girl."_

 _"No!"_ Elsa gasped dramatically, slapping her hand over her heart.

Jack's face flushed, and she restrained from a laugh as he reached around, picking up another two books and holding them up in turn. "In _this_ one," he started again, "I am a modernization of the character Plyades from Sophocles' _Elektra_ , and in _this_ one— _personal_ favorite," Jack chuckled, "I am: _The Plague."_

Elsa's eyes bulged. "Wait, _what?"_

"No— _literally_. That guy doesn't even think it's symbolism." Jack scoffed, closing the book and tossing it onto the pile. "I am—literally—the plague. After all this time. _I am the plague._ My, if only I'd known."

Elsa laughed. "Yeah, Borstad couldn't have _possibly_ meant that Jack Frost, mischievous winter spirit, would actually have been _Jack Frost, mischievous winter spirit."_

"Oh, don't be _ridiculous,_ Snowflake."

"Ah, academia," she sighed happily as he reached for the next book, "What is the purpose of life, if not searching for deeper meaning in places where it doesn't actually exist?"

Jack snorted. "Don't say that around North," he chuckled.

"Santa Claus?"

"You mean, _Professor_ Claus?"

His hand on the cover of the next book, he paused, slowly looking back to her and raising a single eyebrow.

"Santa Claus was a _professor?"_ she gasped, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. _Big_ time," Jack chuckled, "The guy was a scientist. _Everything_ calls for a lecture. And any excuse for a _ceremony…_ oh, boy. _"_

His eyes widened, and he exhaled slowly, shaking his head in horror at the thought. Elsa laughed, twisting around on the bench.

"A _science_ professor, though?" she asked, "What kind?"

"Well, it was forever ago, so—the fields sort of melted into each other. Astronomy, physics, engineering. That kind of thing."

She smiled. "Wow. And after all this time!" she exclaimed. "He must be _fascinating!"_

"If you can stay awake through the math, then, yeah. Don't worry, though," he laughed, looking to her slyly. "If he can't explain it in under two minutes, he calls it 'magic,' and we're all good."

He grinned, leaning back as she rolled her eyes.

" _Magic_ ," she laughed.

"Yeah—the shpeel on ' _Magic Is What We Call All Scientific Phenomena We Do Not Yet Understand'_ has _got_ to be his favorite lecture." Jack chuckled, "But Back last spring, he got this idea that he had to _physically_ figure out my powers, and he made me his personal lab rat for a couple weeks. _That_ was just weird."

"Did he find anything out?"

"Yeah. Not that any of us can understand what the blizzards he's talking about," Jack chuckled. "According to North, I apparently manipulate low-density pressure gradients, or something."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"I've got no idea. But apparently, it's ironic. At least, North says so."

Elsa nodded. Biting her lip, she looked back to her volume of court records on the table, the words seeming to swim on the page in front of her.

 _Keep going,_ she groaned inwardly, willing herself to concentrate, _Think of Arendelle. The children of Arendelle need this refor—_

"—Now, the _best_ part," Jack said suddenly, making her jump as he took one of the books and walked over to her, "Is seeing _you_ in these books."

A wave of confusion swept over Elsa's face as he sat down next to her on the bench, leaning back against the table and facing her. "Seeing me?" she asked, "What do you mean?"

He smiled good-naturedly, flipping open the book and pulling out a scrap of parchment. Realizing what it was, Elsa felt a little heat rise to her cheeks as he unfolded it.

"I believe these are… _your_ notes?" Jack said softly.

She took the parchment, taking a deep breath. Slowly unfolding it, her eyes fell onto a few words written in a shaky, but elegant, handwriting.

A princess's handwriting.

 _SILENT CHARACTERS_

 _SOPHACLES_ — _OUT OF ACTORS_

 _SILENCE PARALLEL, J. F._

 _"Well,"_ she stammered, "J. F. is you."

"Yeah, I got that much," he laughed. "How about the rest?"

"Okay— _memories, come forth_ ," Elsa sighed, flicking her hand through the air. "Um—alright, you know how ancient Greek playwrights would each get three actors and a chorus in their theater festivals?"

"No."

"Oh. Well, they could switch out different masks for different characters, but every playwright only could have three speaking actors at a time," Elsa explained, "It was part of the rules of the competition."

"So, Plyades was one of them?"

"Nope. That's the point," she said softly, gesturing to the note, "He was a silent character. Get it? Because he was _silent…?"_

Jack looked at her in bewilderment. After a few moments, his face fell.

"Unheard," he sighed. "Like—me."

Elsa nodded. Letting out her breath, she stared back down at her old note, folding it shut along its worn creases. Looking back up into his eyes, she pulled in her breath.

"So," Elsa asked, "You've never studied Greek tragedy?"

Jack jolted, snapping out of the phase with a snort. "Uh… that _surprises_ you?"

"Well, you clearly knew your Shakespeare."

"I _pranked_ Shakespeare!"

Elsa giggled, shaking her head. "Okay. So I'm off by a few years—"

"—Like, a couple _thousand_ years!"

She burst out laughing in spite of herself, covering her hand with her mouth.

" _Sheesh!_ " Jack breathed, "I'm not— _that—_ old—!"

Elsa pulled her hand away, smiling and blushing self-consciously as she turned back to her volume of court records.

" _Speaking_ of old," Jack said suddenly, changing the subject and leaning close in to her face, "You should probably find a good stopping point. After dinner, I think _you_ need to go straight to bed."

"What? Whatever for?"

"You're going to need your sleep," he laughed, standing up and reaching for the pile of books. "And I can wake you up when it's time. I figure that two or three in the morning will be good."

"Two or three in the— _!"_

Her voice trailed off, and she gasped, her eyes widening with the realization. Jack smirked, nodding as he _thwacked_ the last book onto the pile to take back downstairs.

"My _Council!"_ she gasped, " _Three in the morning?"_

"Do _you_ know a better time for spooking geezers?"

"Operation _Spooking Geezers?"_ Elsa chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "My, what am _inspiring_ name for an underground revolt."

He laughed, walking back around the table and reaching for his staff. "Operation _Invisible Phantom,_ then?"

"Hmm…"

She contemplated this, shrugging as she stood from the bench, closing the volume of court records. As she pulled it towards herself, heaving the enormous book into her arms, Elsa felt a mischievous grin tug at the edge of her mouth.

"No—Operation _Ice Alliance,"_ she laughed softly. "Now, come _on_ , let's put these back. My sister will have a _fit_ if we're late for dinner again."


	51. Fatherhood

**(ENORMOUS) AUTHOR'S NOTE: I LIVE! Although, life has been crazy. So, this is (FINALLY) the next chronological chapter, and I'm really happy to say that the hiatus, while still happening, is actually ALMOST done. I know, I know, I keep** ** _saying_** **that, because I keep thinking it's true, BUT THIS TIME FOR REAL: THE NEXT TIME I POST, IT WILL BE AN ANNOUNCEMENT THAT THE HIATUS IS OVER (so, no new chapter, but lots and LOTS of new material—like, the entirely rewritten snowball fight, etc.).**

 **FOR ALL THOSE OF YOU THAT HAVE ASKED SPECIFIC QUESTIONS, ETC, THAT I HAVEN'T ANSWERED YET: I am WAY sorry! If you've asked/said something SPECIFIC that you were hoping I'd respond to, AND I HAVEN'T, please, PLEASE ask again so that I can try to get back to you! Again, for contact OUTSIDE the fanfic, I have an email at IceAllianceAuthorPerson at gmail (NOT "NopeNotTelling;" that one was taken!). Also, a LOT of people in the guest reviews have given me some great feedback that I'd like to respond to, but have just left the name as "Guest," meaning, that I have NO way to differentiate you from everybody else for a response. As a request—um, can you wonderful, FANTASTIC guest reviewers please give me a way to respond, like, by putting yourself as "Guest23" or something? Because, I'd love to respond to a lot of you, but can't. (And, obviously, I reserve the right to not respond to trolling.)**

 **TO GUEST REVIEWER KARA B: Of course!**

 **TO GUEST REVIEWER RAVEN: Oh my goodness, thank you so much for writing to tell me that! For the number of times I've read your kind words, I can tell you that you have no idea how much your review has affected ME!**

 **In the meantime, thank you thank you THANK YOU to everybody else that reviewed—it really means more to me than I can say; EXPECIALLY right now, in this blasted hiatus! Thank you for being awesome, for still being here and tolerating me, for being interested and reading, and I hope you have a fantabulous day! :)**

 **.**

 **.**

 **51: FATHERHOOD**

.

" _Fourteen?!"_

Anna's jaw dropped as she and Elsa walked arm-in-arm down the hallway after dinner, satiated from a full meal of lefse, fresh cheese, and fish. Jack saw Elsa laugh, shrugging as she leaned in close to her sister.

"It was—uncomfortable," Elsa chuckled breathily. "To say the least."

" _I'll_ say!"

"I don't want to _know_ what you would have said!"

The girls laughed, and Jack's heart swelled, seeing the pure joy on Elsa's face. Oh, thank Manny for Anna. She made her sister so happy…

That _smile,_ though.

Finally reaching Anna and Kristoff's bedroom door, Kristoff quietly stepped behind the sisters, pulling out his key. Pushing the door open for his wife, he raised his eyebrows.

"We're going to be turning in pretty quickly," he sighed, leaning up against the frame, "Sven and I have got a pretty early load tomorrow. What are the ol' Blizzard Bunnies going to be up to? Anything to be—concerned—abou—"

"— _Kristoff!"_

Jack restrained from a grin as Kristoff leapt to the side, avoiding Princess Anna's shove. Elsa, naturally, didn't seem to notice the exchange.

"Oh, I was thinking more research," she shrugged as Kristoff leaned back up against the doorframe. She looked to Jack. "Is that okay with you?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah, that's fine."

"I'll tell you what, though," Elsa continued, turning around and lovingly taking Anna's hands in her own again, "In the _morning_ , before you and I do the invitation trip to the schools, I'm going to line up some chocolate samples that we can take along. It doesn't seem that— _"_

There was a long, shrill squeal, and Elsa was cut off as a giggling, hip-height mass of snow appeared at the end of the hallway. Seeing the group, the snowman leapt into the air, his top half twirling independently of its bottom before he fell back into one piece and ran towards them.

 _"_ _Olaf!"_ Anna exclaimed, dropping Elsa's hands and bending over to him. "How are you? I haven't seen you all day!"

"OoooOOOOOOH, I am GREAT!" Olaf squealed, running up to her and stopping to adoringly look up at the sisters, "There's sooOOOOOO much snow! We had LOTS of fun; we built _snowmen_ , and a big FORT, and had a sledding race, and made snow angels, and had ANOTHER sledding race, and **_DADDYYYYYYYY!"_**

Jack startled as Olaf leapt into the air, shrieking in delight and shoving in-between the sisters to him. Before he had the chance to respond, the little snowman was suddenly pummeling head-on into his legs, knocking Jack off his feet to tumble over backwards onto the ground with a yelp of shock.

Kristoff burst out laughing hysterically, pounding his fist against the doorframe. As the Spirit of Winter struggled to sit up, the little snowman still clutching his ankles, he noticed that Anna was giggling as well, and—to his horror—that Elsa was also laughing, covering her mouth with her hand as she blushed.

Jack felt blood rising to his face.

"OOOOH, _DaddyOhDaddyOhDaddy_ , I've _MISSED YOOOOOOOOU!"_ Olaf squealed, clutching Jack's calves, "It's been SOOOOOOOOOO LONG since—wait, how long has it been?"

"Uh—yeah," Jack stammered, searching for a response, "I—um, I—missed you too—"

"—It's been TOO LONG," the snowman gasped, gazing worshipfully up into Jack's face, and then falling down and embracing his legs with death grip again as the others laughed behind him, "And I have SO much to tell you, because I love you and you're Jack Frost and you're my Dad because you're Jack Frost and that makes you my dad and I _LOVE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!"_

" _Please_ stop calling me that," Jack begged.

"Wait," Anna giggled, turning to her sister, "Am I missing something, or…?"

"Olaf has decided that Jack is his father," Elsa explained.

" _Awww!"_

 _"_ _Wait,_ wait, wait," Kristoff interjected, "His _father!?_ How does _that_ work out?"

Jack awkwardly managed to push himself up, leaning forward to peel Olaf's arms off of his legs.

"It _doesn't,"_ he choked.

"—OoooOOOOOOH, but it DOES!" Olaf squealed, "He's JACK FROST! _He'S my DADDY!"_

Elsa giggled quietly into her hand as she looked to her sister. "Apparently, Jack was responsible for the snow that was already on the North Mountain during my coronation."

"So, Olaf's your _son?"_ Anna gasped, "That's _adorable!"_

"Olaf is not my son," Jack squeaked. Blushing furiously, he gingerly managed to peel the snowman's stick arms off one of his legs, only to have Olaf instantly lunge forward onto his other, his entire snowy body trembling as he giggled uncontrollably, bouncing up and down and practically sobbing with joy.

Jack looked up to Elsa helplessly.

Restraining from a laugh, she walked forward, bending down and placing her hands on Olaf's sides to begin gently pulling him off.

 _"_ _DANG,_ Frost!" Kristoff laughed, turning back to him, "You've already had a _kid_ together!? Blizzard Bunnies do _NOT_ waste time!"

"I—I c-can't be a father," Jack stammered, his face going pale as Elsa reached back to help him onto his feet. "I mean—come _on_ , I've never even had se—"

"—AAAH, HA HA HA, _WHAT HE MEANS,_ OLAF, _"_ Elsa interrupted, lunging forward and clapping her hand over Jack's mouth as she looked to the snowman, "Is that—it's, um, it's a difficult transition. It'll take him some time to—adjust."

She threw a dark glare at Jack, slowly removing her hand. Gulping, he drew himself up, gripping his staff.

"Um—right," Jack choked. "Big emotional transition, Olaf."

"But it's _soooOOOOooo CUTE,"_ Anna exclaimed, "We—"

" _Are going to bed,"_ Kristoff chuckled, "I don't know if my awkward-ometer can take much more of this. Better get out of here before the _snowmance_ resumes…"

She rolled her eyes, and Elsa laughed, pulling her sister into a last, goodnight-embrace. Kristoff and the overwhelmingly pregnant princess then passed into their room, closing the door as Jack and Elsa watched the little snowman go bouncing down the hall to his own quarters for the night.

 _._

 _._

From somewhere in the next room, Jack Frost knew that Elsa was fast asleep in her bed, getting a few hours of rest before their secret outing. He knew that her icy nightgown had probably slipped from her shoulder by now, revealing a few creamy inches of her soft skin, and that her hair was probably tossed about her head on her pillow, just like it always was. The golden strands were probably glistening in the moonlight, snowflakes and ice crystals sparkling as they moved with her breathing, her chest rising up and down beneath the covers as the Ice Powers Girl peacefully slept in the silence.

If he were in her bedroom to _see_ it, he would probably just watch; just stand by her in awe and take it all in. If he were there to _see_ it, Jack had a feeling that the Snow Queen's bed would look like the most warm, soft, comfortable, wonderful, and altogether impossibly _tempting_ place in the entire world for him to be.

Which was _exactly_ why the Youngest Guardian was currently standing in the _next_ room, determinately inspecting every inch of Elsa's art gallery to entertain himself.

Replacing the tiny, frosty ice-Olaf on the shelf of figurines, shifting two Annas and a random politician to the back, Jack bit his lip. Taking a step away from the shelf of statues, he reached into his front pocket, pulling out Elsa's pocketwatch.

One fifty-five A.M.

Five more minutes.

Jack shoved the watch back into his pocket, swallowing hard. How long could he keep this up? One night, a couple _hours_ of temptation without the ice wall (they'd left it down, because Elsa was counting on him to wake her at the proper time), not a problem. He had _more_ than enough self-control for _that_. But at this rate, he was going to keep restraining as Mister _Friendly Friend-Friend Friendzoned_ Guy for the next fifty years.

Shifting his grip on the staff, Jack walked around the end of the last shelf again, coming into the opening of the room behind it. Elsa's art gallery, he'd discovered, wasn't really a hallway at all, or even the tiny offshoot room that he'd originally thought it was. Instead, it was an airy private office, with multiple faded places in the carpet where large pieces of furniture had recently been moved out to make room for the Snow Queen's clear, crystalline shelves of ice statues. Beyond the shelves, there wasn't really all that much to see, but the open space might have been good for pacing if Jack weren't avoiding that part of the room.

Even though it was just a painting, there was something about coming face-to-face with Elsa's father that deeply unsettled Jack Frost.

Letting out his breath, Jack walked forward across the carpet, letting his staff fall back onto his shoulder. The portrait of the last king's coronation was much wider than it was tall, hanging over a long table with a few royal-looking objects on it, and although the man didn't look much like Elsa, his identity was clear from the fact that it had been painted at some point in the last fifty years. It probably was meant to have been replaced with a portrait from the most _recent_ ruler's coronation, but given what he'd heard about the event, it probably wasn't an experience that Elsa particularly wanted to be reminded of.

Without even realizing it, Jack suddenly found himself standing directly in front of the painting. Loosening his grip on the staff and allowing the end of the shepherd's crook to silently fall into the carpet beside him, he drew himself up, subconsciously puffing out his chest a little as he glared into the portrait's eyes.

"You know…" Jack whispered into the silence. "I don't really _think_ all that much of you."

The painting of the king stared emptily back at him, still and unmoving. After a few moments, Jack scoffed, giving his head a shake.

"I'm not going to pretend that I know all that much about parenting," he continued, "But I know _enough_ about it to know that you did a really bad job. You wanna know why?

"Elsa grew up _scared_ of herself. That's not natural, in kids. That's TAUGHT. _Trust_ me," the Guardian breathed, _"_ _I know_. If you're always scared, you'll never be able to think about anything else. You're _not_ going to be happy, and you're _not_ going to be able to have fun, _especially_ if you're a kid. And kids NEED fun.

 _"_ _Everyone_ needs a little fun. And you _stole_ that from her," he choked, "You _stole—FUN—_ from a _kid._ Maybe if you weren't so focused on your _own_ fears, you could have seen that. Maybe if you'd just _listened_ to her, or, I dunno, _anyone,_ Elsa could have actually HAD a childhood, and then maybe—just _maybe,"_ he continued, his voice growing slightly louder, "She wouldn't be so _damaged_ now! _You_ stole the FUN out of a little girl's _childhood_. _"_

Jack Frost drew himself up, tossing his staff into his other hand. Cenching his teeth together, he strode up to the enormous oil painting, glaring into the image's empty, two-dimensional eyes.

"Elsa doesn't think that she— _deserves_ —to have fun," he gritted, "Do you have ANY idea how—how _sick_ that is? That's _SICK!_ She doesn't even think she can take a _break,_ for more than two seconds! I swear, I'm bending over _backwards_ trying to convince her to just calm down! And I haven't even TOUCHED on the idea of her having a boyfrien—"

Jack froze, catching the word just as it was about to fall off the tip of his tongue. Swallowing hard, he shifted his fingers on the staff, feeling a little heat rushing to his cheeks as he looked to the portrait of Elsa's father again.

"Elsa's turned out okay. Because she's _insanely_ strong, though, _not_ because of what _you_ did," he whispered fervently. "Okay, fine. Anna helped. But _still!_ Even though it's incredible that she pulled through, _nobody_ should HAVE to be that strong. And, Elsa's got the scars to show for it.

"So _now_ ," Jack continued, slightly louder, "Before I can even do _anything_ that _I_ want to do, I've got to convince the most amazing woman I've ever known that she's even _worth_ it. Like—that having a little FUN in her life wouldn't be the end of the world. _Basically_ , I'm being friendzoned, because I'm currently stuck spending all of _my_ time cleaning up _your_ mess. And _that's. Not. FAIR._ It's _not_ fair to me, and it's really, _really_ not fair to _HER._ It's not _fair_ that she's had to go through all of this, especially, ESPECIALLY, when her _own father—instead_ of helping, _instead_ of trying to legitimately ease the situation—made everything so much worse.

"So, back to Elsa and me. Do I want Anna's permission? Yeah. Kristoff's? Sure," Jack hissed. "But _yours?"_

He scoffed with disgust, rolling his eyes and taking a step back.

"I _don't need_ your approval," Jack enunciated coldly, glaring into the king's vacant, oil-painted gaze. "You sure don't have mine."

Silence.

With another scoff, Jack Frost picked up his staff and turned away from the enormous painting, walking back toward the crystalline shelves that divided the study from the art gallery. Realizing once again that he was alone, the moonlight refracting through the ice and falling onto the carpet all around him in the quiet, he looked back to the portrait. He'd been talking to a painting. Just… a painting.

 _Am I losing it for REAL this time?_ Jack thought bitterly, letting out his breath. It was a low point, talking to the pictures on the walls, but it was the closest thing to getting to call out the former king that he _had._ Not to mention—as embarrassing as it was, Jack knew that there was once a time, not too long before, when he'd been so lonely he'd actually started talking to the _wind._

Approaching the painting again, a look of puzzlement swept over Jack's features. The man in the portrait looked more like the type that wouldn't understand Elsa, but—his eyes. If the artist had portrayed the former king accurately, there was a blankness there, a sort of hard emptiness, but—no cruelty. No _deliberate_ cruelty, at least.

Huh.

How weird.

 _You don't look like the type that would actively teach a little kid that she was a monster,_ Jack thought, beginning to approach the painting again in wonder. I _mean, who would actually DO something like that? That actually sounds more like—_

Jack froze, shaking his head violently.

Well. Never _mind_ who THAT sounded like.

 _BONG… BONG…_

Jack snapped his head up, spinning around. The clock. The village clock. What time was it?

Pulling out the pocketwatch, he glanced down to see that the golden minute hand was now pointing straight up. Exactly two A.M.

His heart pounding, Jack spun around and leapt into the air, darting across the room and rounding the corner of the icy shelves in a flurry a snowflakes. In an instant, he was shooting past her balcony doors, swooping down into a silent landing as he came into her moonlit room and walked up to the bed where Elsa, of course, was fast asleep.

Exactly how he'd pictured her.

Wow.

There was _more_ than enough room to fit two people in that bed, Jack found himself suddenly noticing. After a few moments of staring at the rich, untouched covers folded back beside her, Jack let out his breath. _Oh,_ man, it was tempting. Just to have her against him, to feel her warmth and to hear her breathing. Just to crawl into bed with her and hold her and touch her and _know_ that he wasn't alone, not to even necessarily _do_ anything; but just—well, just to _be_ there.

Not that doing stuff was out of the question, of course. Jack glanced down to blanket, a hint of a sly smile tugging at the edge of his mouth as he eyed the place where the curve of Elsa's hip was visible through the covers. _Doing stuff_ sounded pretty good, actually. In fact, when he thought about it, there were PLENTY of things that he and the Ice Powers Girl could _friendship, friendship, friendship,_ _FRIENDSHIP_ , **_FRIENDSHIP!_**

Shaking his head vigorously, Jack reached forward and poked Elsa's shoulder, gently beginning to prod her awake before his Inner Creepy Voice had a chance to respond.

"Elsa?" he choked.

" _Mmph…_?"

The Ice Powers Girl groggily turned away from him, whimpering slightly in her sleep. Jack's heart swelled, and he bit his lip, restraining from a laugh at the sight. Elsa was _so_ cute.

Maybe they _didn't_ have to do this tonight. Maybe he could just stash his shepherd's crook under the bed, quiiiietly sneak around to the other side of it, and get in with her without her even notic-STOP IT, STOP IT, _STOP IT._

"Elsa? It's time," Jack squeaked again desperately. "I… come on, Elsa. Wake up… waaaaakey wakey…"

Her eyes slowly blinked open, and he took a step back. Elsa shook her head slightly, and suddenly, her deep, startlingly intelligent blue eyes were staring directly into his own.

The Ice Powers Girl smiled.

"Hi, Jack," she said softly.

Jack's heart leapt into his throat. Just as he was about to open his mouth to respond, Elsa was sitting up, pushing her hair out of her face.

"It is _really_ time already?" she yawned, "I feel like I just closed my eyes!"

"Um—yeah. It's two AM."

She yawned again, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. After a few moments, Elsa cleared her throat.

"Uh—Jack?" She glanced towards the icy room divider at the end of her bed. "Could you—um—"

"— _Oh!_ Right!"

Snapping back into focus, Jack dutifully spun around, staring at his feet while Elsa darted behind the room divider. A few moments later, he felt a cold little gust of wind sweep past him, a faint sparkling in his peripheral vision as Elsa's nightgown disintegrated upwards into the air.

Eh _,_ heh.

Scarcely a moment later, there was another tiny gust of wind. Relaxing slightly, Jack heard Elsa step out from behind the room divider, the floorboards creaking under her feet as she did so.

"Are you ready?"

Jack turned around, letting out his breath. "Uh… wait," he said, looking down to her dress, "You're… wearing that?"

A look of bewilderment swept over her face. "This is what I always wear," Elsa responded, whisking her long capelet forward past her right ankle and sticking out her foot, which was now encased in one of her standard, icy high heels. "Is something wrong?"

He let out his breath, his shoulders relaxing again as he arched an eyebrow. "Elsa, the point is to _not_ get caught," Jack chuckled.

"I'm not planning on getting caught."

"Yeah. Nothing says _inconspicuous_ like dragging ten feet of glitter behind you."

Elsa opened her mouth to respond, but then shut it again. After a few moments, her cheeks flushed, and she rolled her eyes in defeat.

"Fine, _fine.._."

 _Whoosh!_

The capelet fell to the floor across the line she had drawn, sparkling in the moonlight.

"I will _have you know,_ though," Elsa retorted as she drew herself up again, stepping out of her icy shoes, "That I am _perfectly_ capable of running in my shoes. Even on ice, I can take stairs two at a time."

"I never said I didn't like the shoes."

"Well, I feel like they help with posture. You know, so it's more regal," she shrugged, "In _addition_ to the height thing. I feel like they improve how I walk."

A dreamy smile spread over Jack's face.

" _Oh,_ yeah," he breathed.

"Wait, what?"

"Nothing," Jack corrected, snapping back into focus. He gestured to her dress. "Even _without_ the shoes, though—are you sure you can run in that? That's a really long skirt."

She looked down. "Oh. I… that's a good point. How about…"

Her voice trailed off, and Elsa bent down to sweep her hand over the sparkling fabric, the skirt beginning to disintegrate around her calves.

"How's this?"

Jack looked back down as she spun around in the now knee-length dress, his eyebrows lifting slightly as the sparkling ice swept past her legs.

 _Meh,_ Jack thought. _Could be shorter._

"That's fine," he told her. "Now, come _on_ ; we've gotta get moving. We don't have much time."

"How are—"

"—Balcony?"

"Sounds good."

Elsa nodded, and Jack tossed his staff into his other hand, turning and walking for the art gallery. She followed, and within a few moments, Jack found himself stepping out into the freezing wind of the December night, the young queen scooped up into his arms once again.

Scarcely a minute later, he was touching down onto the ground, silently bouncing on the balls of his feet and setting Elsa onto the cobblestone of the town square.

"Where are we going?" Elsa whispered.

His heart leaping, Jack tossed his staff to his other hand again. "Ivar Hauge," he said quickly, "I figured we should do backwards seniority. He lives with his sister's family in an apartment over the bakery. It's this way!"

He hopped back, gesturing for her to follow as he turned and ran across the square, ducking into an alley between the two nearest buildings. Spinning around, Elsa ran after him, finally joining him by the enormous doors of a cellar.

"I checked this place out earlier," Jack whispered, "I'm pretty sure the guy with the bakery _never_ actually locks it. And it should connect to the apartments upstairs, once we're in."

He bent down and gingerly grasped the splintered edge of one of the doors, heaving it open as quietly as he could. The old hinges squealed in protest, and Jack carefully set the door down, revealing a dark, rickety set of stairs leading into the basement below.

Brushing off his hands, Jack stood up, looking back to Elsa triumphantly. Her eyes widened.

"Wait," she choked, "Are we—are we _breaking in?"_

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Uh…" he said slowly, "…Yeeeeeah?"

Elsa looked down to the stairs, biting her lip.

"Wait a minute," Jack breathed, "You've—you've never _pranked_ anybody before?"

Her face flushed. " _Heavens_ , no!"

"Daaaaw," Jack teased, giving her arm a gentle nudge as he passed her to hop through the doors into the stairwell, "You're such a _good girl."_

"As a matter of fact, I am!"

He grinned, turning back to glance up at her. "We could fix that."

"Wait, what?"

"Nothing."

Elsa looked down to her hands, nervously fidgeting with her fingers as she stood at the top of the stairs. A look of concern swept over Jack's face.

"Uh… Snowflake?" he asked, "Is everything okay? I mean, you still want to do this. Right?"

"Oh! Yes," she stammered, "I—I have to. I mean, _we_ have to. It's n-not exactly a conventional method for pushing reforms through, but if I'm going to get the—well, politically—I _know_ that my Council is _seriously_ keeping the people of Arendelle from— _!"_

She abruptly stopped talking, squeezing her eyes shut and giving her head a quick shake. After a few moments, Elsa shyly looked back up into his eyes, biting the edge of her lip.

Oh.

"Uh…" Jack stated, stepping a foot up onto the edge of the cellar doors again, "You're new at this."

Elsa nodded. Restraining from a laugh, Jack shook his head and he stepped back down into the cellar, taking her hand in his own.

"Well, then—your majesty," he chuckled, "Let me explain this in the _simplest_ way possible."

Elsa swallowed hard as he played with her fingers, gently pulling her down to look into her gaze and peering up at her through his eyelashes. Before she could respond, the Spirit of Winter then grinned mischievously, leaning in very close to her ear.

" _Welcome to the Naughty List,_ sweetheart," Jack whispered.

And he yanked her into the cellar.

.

.

.

 **For those of you that skipped that enormous Author's Note at the top: The next time I post, it WILL BE AN ANNOUNCEMENT ending the hiatus! I love you all, you are fantastic, and I hope you have a fantabulous day!**


	52. ANNOUNCEMENT: END OF DRAFTING HIATUS

**_(Drumroll, please.)_**

 **PBTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT**

 **.**

 ** _After 16 months of drafting…_**

 ** _Despite the fact that I'd only actually spent about 7 months binge-writing before that…_**

 ** _Because I suck…_**

 **THE ETERNAL HIATUS IS OVER!**

 ***CYMBAL CRASH***

 **.**

 **PHEW!** **FINALLY! ****AAAAAAAH, AND IT FEELS** **SO ****GOOD.**

 **.**

 **So ANYWAY, the new draft, IN ITS ENTIRETY, has now been posted OVER the old one, thus making it all one, fully-chronological piece, with the ADDED bonus of** ** _actually making sense._** **(YAS!) In the meantime, I'm thinking I'm going to leave this announcement thingy here, so that I can use it as a better place to answer questions, respond to reviews, ETC. and let the author's notes be a bit shorter moving forward. Eventually, that list of references that I was SO SURE was a great idea, back when I was young and stupid (AKA 16 months ago) might even end up here. THERE'S NO WAY TO TELL. Oooo, SUSPENSE! (Because 16 months of suspense WASN'T ENOUGH!)**

 **.**

 **In the meantime: I would love it, LOVE it, if you kind, FANTASTIC people would go back and read some chunks of the new draft that I just posted. I've given Sneak Peeks of what NOW comprises chapters 1-13, and I posted what is now chapter 14 (and then removed it) last fall, but basically MUCH/MOST of 15-27 has been MASSIVELY re-written. Here are some things that are new, or at least, were HINTED at, taken down, blah blah blah:**

 **1.** **That Elsa/Olaf chapter, which is now chapter 14!**

 **2.** **Kristoff's center, as revealed in that scene where he interrogates Jack!**

 **3.** **King Edvin being much more realistically scary! (Less overt mustache-twirling!)**

 **4.** **Jack, having an actual REACTION to Olaf's existence (now that Frostine the Snow Monster has been chopped, because she was a pointless character)!**

 **5.** **More sexual awkwardness!**

 **6.** **A completely rewritten snowball fight scene, that DOESN'T completely suck! With an extra-large scoop of sexual tension on the side! Because I CAN, THAT'S WHY! (Nope. NEVER attaching my real name to this. Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER…) ;)**

 **7.** **A dramatically-extended/rewritten Monsters or Miracles** **scene, with a LOT more dialogue, and a MUCH more realistic reaction from Jack when he admits to how much he likes Elsa's—** ** _clothing_** **. Yeeeeeah, you all know what I'm talking about. (I am NEVER living that one down, am I?)**

 **8.** **The satire chapter, which is EXACTLY the same, except that it now includes the definition of the word** ** _"_** ** _satire!"_**

 **9.** **Even MORE sexual awkwardness!**

 **Long story short: IT'S BEEN A LONG HIATUS, YA. But, there actually IS a TON of new material (that was** ** _never posted in the sneak peeks!)_** **, so that should** ** _hopefully_** **help all of you to forgive me for taking so long working on it.**

 **.**

 **ALSO: I'm adding illustrations! I REALLY want to learn how to draw, and adding some illustrations to go with Ice Alliance seems like a good enough excuse to do so. I'm a little scared (okay, a LOT scared), but I've made a tumblr account in case any of you are interested in seeing my stuff (I've already posted the first one). If you have any tips or critiques for me as I figure this out and try to work on my skills, I'd love to get your feedback! Type in nopenottelling-dot-tumblr-dot-com, and you'll find me. :)**

 **.**

 **You are ALL AMAZING, I cannot thank you ENOUGH for standing by me and still being here, a huge, HUGE thank you to all of you FANTABULOUS people that reviewed, you are wonderful, you can't know how much this has all meant to me, and in conclusion, WE'RE BACK.**

 **~NopeNotTelling** **.**

 **.**

 **TO VARIOUS GUEST REVIEWERS THAT I CAN'T CONTACT THROUGH THE WEBSITE:**

 **Guest23: Okay. I love the fact that you LITERALLY used my suggestion, "Guest23," as your username. That is so snarky it is AMAZING. Thanks for your awesome feedback! :)**

 **FrostbiteSJC: You have no idea how much that means to me; thank you SO much!**

 **WooHoo: Ah! THERE thou art! Sorry it took so long, and thanks for waiting!**

 **Microfire: Hey, you! Book recommendations? Heck yeah! Just let me think here… (*instantly forgets every book I've ever read*) Seriously, though, before I can give any recommendations, I need to know what you like, and how old you are. There are things that I'd recommend to a 24-yr-old that I would NEVER recommend to someone who's 12!**


	53. The Invisible Phantom

**AUTHOR'S NOTE : HELLO AGAIN, EVERYBODY! OKAY, for this chapter to make sense, BE AWARE that I am making some MAJOR references to "Frozen Fever," the 7-minute short released in March of 2015 in front of Disney's live-action Cinderella. If you haven't seen it, go look it up-and seriously, it's on iTunes for, like, two dollars. ;) **

**_ALSO_ (copy-pasted from the announcement, for those of you that didn't see it): I'm adding illustrations! I REALLY want to learn how to draw, and adding some illustrations to go with Ice Alliance seems like a good enough excuse to do so. I'm a little scared (okay, a LOT scared), but I've made a tumblr account in case any of you are interested in seeing my stuff (I've already posted the first one). If you have any tips or critiques for me as I figure this out and try to work on my skills, I'd love to get your feedback! Type in nopenottelling-dot-tumblr-dot-com, and you'll find me. I've already had some good feedback on what I can improve, and for that, THANK YOU in advance to the fantastic artist MikasP. :) Also, some people have approached me about the possibility of fanart/edits, and if you've got something you'd like me to see, I would LOVE to post it/link to it on there, as well!**

 ** _To Guest Reviewer Microfire:_ For some good, old-fashioned hilarity, I recommend anything from the Jeeves and Wooster books by P.G. Wodehouse. It's been a while, and there are about a million books, but in summary, Wooster is a rich, fashionable young idiot of a British gentleman in (I think?) the turn of the century, while Jeeves is his calm, brilliant butler that gets him out of all his ridiculous situations. ;)**

 ** _To Guest Reviewer Alene Mask:_ Thank you so much for your sweet, kind review! It totally made my week. As for your question: I'd LOVE to drop a hint, but not here. Feel free to use that email (iceallianceauthorperson at gmail) I set up, if you want a hint of a spoiler. In the meantime, though... _shh_. I got this. ;) (But it won't come up until the VERY end, so don't hold your breath!)**

 ** _To Guest Reviewer WingedHeart_ : You have no idea how happy that insanely kind review of yours makes me; thank you so much! As for your question: Meh, sort of lukewarm, then cold. Ish. No spoilers, of course, but a question: WHY does everybody just take that character's words at face value? (Again: shh, no spoilers!) ;)**

 ** _For the rest of you:_ Thank you thank you THANK YOU so much for ALL of your kind words, patience, and support-I love you all, and I hope you have a FANTABULOUS day! :D**

 **.**

 **.**

 **53: THE INVISIBLE PHANTOM**

It wasn't that all old ideas were _bad_ —in fact, more often than not, ancient wisdom proved more effective than new philosophy. The problem arose when old ideas, instead of being tried and tested against new ones, were assumed to be superior because they had simply EXISTED first. The mark of a mature individual is that he or she approaches new ideas with old experience, and does everything in his or her power to objectively evaluate their worth. A geezer—by contrast—is simply too stubborn to do so. And Queen Elsa's Council, by Jack's assertion, was _filled_ with such geezers; not the least of which was a crotchety old man by the name of Ivar Johannes Hauge.

Mr. Hauge, a seemingly collected and peaceful politician, was the oldest and most stubborn member of Queen Elsa's inherited Royal Council. If his words were to be taken at face value, it could be said that what Ivar most valued was the stability of tradition, and peace between the existing political groups. The _real_ problems in the kingdom (as he took enormous pleasure in explaining to anyone foolish enough to disagree with him) were not to be found in specific policies or statistics _themselves_ , but in the pessimism that surrounded their discourse. Of course, this view was understandable _,_ given that self-described peacemaker's definition of _pessimism_ was the acknowledgement of any evidence that could dare to suggest that effective governance was wrought by personal effort.

Having so comfortably enjoyed his seat on the Council for the previous twenty-two years, gleefully shooting down every new idea that found its way onto his desk, when described via comparison to similarly pleasant experiences, Queen Elsa's arrival came as nothing short of a shot to the eyeball. All of a sudden, his extreme laissez-faire philosophy and condescending half-smile were no longer seen as indicators of wisdom, but _cynicism_ as the young queen pushed for change, demanded statistics and data instead of simply accepting the fact that _facts_ were determined by money, and those that held it. Instead of brushing the little people away, as had become customary under The Council's control, the young queen was suddenly _inviting_ representatives and small-town leaders into the castle, giving them audiences and placing them in panels to lay out their problems and ideas. But even worse than that, The Council had reeled to learn, it seemed that Queen Elsa was actually— _listening_ to them. From all outward appearances, she even seemed to _value_ the opinion of the townspeople just as much as she valued the nobility's, and her passion for compromise and improvement was nothing short of horrifying.

In his heart, however, it wasn't the nature of the Snow Queen's so-called _improvements_ to the kingdom that so offended Ivar as much as it was the young ruler's ridiculous assertion that there _were_ , in fact, potential improvements to be made. Not to mention, Queen Elsa's insistence upon personally attending to the political matters of the kingdom's international and domestic affairs deeply troubled him. Not only did her controversial ideas stir up the existing nobles in court, but it was almost as if the lovely young queen actually _believed_ that she was more effective drafting proclamations and pouring over census results, rather than standing by as a sweet, motherly figure for the kingdom's little people to admire.

It was _such_ a waste of beauty.

In his obviously greater experience, Ivar had brought this up with the young queen, trying in vain to teach her the _true_ nature of how things were run. Far from taking his advice to step down, however, Queen Elsa flown into a rant, becoming hysterical and flying off the handle with something or other about _responsibility_ , and her duty as queen, and valuing the input of ALL of her people, yada yada ya. He couldn't quite remember it, and to be honest had stopped listening after a few sentences, but Ivar had left the conversation feeling something a mix of frustration and self-righteousness at the young queen's naivete. A few weeks later, when the Council began to discuss the matter of inviting suitors to come and knock some sense into the girl, Ivar had strongly argued in favor of the idea. When it came to reigning in the beautiful young queen, something _had_ to be done.

What they _didn't_ take into account, however, was that this young queen was now standing outside of her oldest councilman's bedroom door, accompanied by an equally powerful friend and more than ready to strike back.

"We are really— _really—_ not supposed to be here," Elsa choked quietly.

"That's kinda the point, Snowflake."

As the Spirit of Winter touched the mist in the keyhole, it instantly hardened, solid ice gleaming against the brass. A sly little grin twitching out of the side of his mouth, he then stood up, grasping the frozen key and twisting it.

 _Click!_

The door swung open, and he turned and looked back to Elsa, raising his eyebrows. Her jaw dropped.

 _"_ _That's_ how you got into my room!" she gasped.

He shrugged. "Busting into places," Jack chuckled. "Not usually a problem, for me. Remember?"

"You—my _balcony!"_ she whispered, " _You_ — _!"_

"I've learned a trick or two in the last few centuries," he grinned. "Now, come on. Are we doing this or not?"

Elsa froze.

The unspoken words hitting him, Jack shifted his fingers on the staff. He leaned in close to her face again, pulling the door shut as she looked up into his eyes.

"Elsa, we're not gonna really _scare_ him, or anything," he reassured her, dropping his voice to a whisper. "We're just—having a little fun with him. Mess with his head, you know?"

"And that'll make him resign?" Elsa whispered back.

" _Nothing_ makes people decide to take vacations like thinking they're seeing things."

He shot her a knowing grin, taking a step back and pushing the door open to step through. Swallowing hard, Elsa then pulled in her breath, following him into Ivar's bedroom.

Without saying a word, Jack bounced into the air and flew across the room, dropping silently onto the ground next to an enormous wooden wardrobe. Quickly glancing to the bed to make sure that Ivar wasn't stirring, he then nodded, looking back to Elsa and gesturing for her to follow.

She bit her lip, looking to the bed. His long nightcap across the pillow, her oldest councilman was fast asleep, snoring loudly enough to drown out any sound of creaking that the floorboards could create. Even so, silently closing the door behind her, Elsa held her breath as she gingerly ran past the bed to where Jack was standing.

Looking back to Ivar, and then turning around, Jack pulled the door to wardrobe open, revealing a dark, dank space that was mostly filled with boxes. The wardrobe was lower than most, with only a single drawer beneath its towering cupboards, but there was still a step up. Elsa accepted Jack's outstretched hand, daintily hopping into the tiny space.

Turning back around to face him, Elsa nearly leapt out of her skin as Jack started talking.

"Relax, Snowflake. He can't hear me," Jack chuckled, "Just you. But I wanted you to have a good view. I'm closing this most of the way, and then I'll open it again. Nod if you can still see everything, okay?"

Elsa watched as the front of the wardrobe door closed almost all of the way before her, sending her into almost complete darkness as it gently creaked on its hinges. Silently stepping forward, she looked out through the crack, scanning the room.

Bed. Chair draped with old clothes. Messy dresser. Desk buried in papers. Moonlight pouring in through the window, the old curtains halfway pulled back.

Elsa blinked as Jack pulled the wardrobe door open again, looking intently into her eyes.

"You good?"

She nodded, trying to swallow her heart back down. Jack's face cracked into a grin.

" _Fantastic_ ," he breathed, slowly closing the door back over the wardrobe and leaving Elsa with the one-inch crack again. "And now, my Queen… for an introduction to pranking, it is time for _you_ to watch: the _master_."

Elsa's heart started pounding as she shifted on her feet, leaning forward to the crack and peering through. Jack was already across the room, practically strutting as he tossed his staff back into his right hand, walking around to the other side of the bed.

"For _today's_ performance," he proclaimed, making her startle at the disconcerting loudness of his voice, "We will _not_ be using ice powers, because—well, we can't have them thinking that the _Snow Queen_ was out of bed, at this time of night. _Scandalous!"_

Standing inside the wardrobe, Elsa smiled in spite of herself.

" _However,"_ Jack continued, "It seems that our dear old councilguy is sawing logs, and pranking usually works best if the prank-ee is awake. So… let's see. Does it feel— _cold—_ to you?"

Before she could even respond, Elsa's breath caught as Jack Frost held his staff up to the side of the bed, flicking it forward and sweeping a gentle gust of cold air across the covers. Ivar stopped snoring, and—

His nose twitching, Elsa's oldest councilman groaned, whimpering in his sleep and turning over, pulling the covers up tighter around his neck.

Jack Frost raised a single eyebrow.

" _Oh,_ no you _DON'T!"_

Jack leapt back and whipped his staff over his head, an icy gust of wind tearing through the room and blowing a few papers off of the desk, ripping at the clothes on the chair and the curtains. The blanket suddenly flapping away from him, Ivar snorted and thrashed, jolting awake as the cold shook him into consciousness.

The sudden wind vanished just as quickly as it appeared, the last of the papers settling back down into their places. Propping himself up on his elbow and scratching his head, Ivar glanced around the room, searching for what disturbed him. Looking down, he realized that his blanket was now sitting on top of his knees, barely reaching the bottom edge of his tattered, stained nightshirt.

Scoffing in annoyance, Ivar reached down and grasped the edge of the blanket, pulling it back up to his neck and settling into the covers. Jack shook his head, and Elsa's eyes widened as the Spirit of Winter reached back up to the top of the blanket, grasping its edge.

 _YANK!_

Ivar startled, flipping over in shock. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he stared down at the blanket, which was once again down at his knees, his eyes wide with confusion.

Jack smiled slyly, looking back up to Elsa and raising his eyebrows. Standing in the wardrobe, she restrained from a laugh at her councilman's stunned expression, covering her mouth with her hand.

Letting his staff fall back onto his shoulder, Jack straightened up, smirking as he sauntered over to the man's cluttered dresser. Coming to a stop, he carefully leaned his staff up against it, then reaching forward to the large, empty bowl in the dresser's center.

With the councilman still staring at his blanket, Jack tipped the bowl onto its side.

Elsa watched as Jack let go of the bowl, and it fell back down, rolling softly against the wood as it whirled around and around like a coin. Ivar's ears perked, and he jerked his head up, sitting bolt upright and looking to locate the source of the sound as the bowl spun to a stop.

Seeing the bowl, Ivar froze.

Shooting Elsa a grin, Jack stuck his hands in his pocket, spinning on his heel and walking to the desk. As Ivar stared at the bowl, his eyes wide with disbelief as he tried to decide if he'd really seen what he thought he saw, the Spirit of Winter placed his hand flat on the largest pile of papers sitting on the desk's edge.

 _Fwwwwwwwwwwwwwip._

Ivar gasped.

 _Fwwwwwwwwwwwwip._ Jack thumbed through the pile of papers again, and Elsa held her breath, looking frantically back and forth between the desk and the bed. Still sitting bolt upright, her councilman had seen the pile of papers shift, and was staring at them in terror.

Jack shrugged, stepping back from the desk and raising his eyebrows. Picking up his staff again, he snorted.

 _"_ _Yeeeeah,_ that's probably even for now," Jack chuckled, looking at the councilman with a smirk. "You make Elsa question her power? I make you question your sanity. Have fun figuring out if you're seeing things—nighty-night, dawling."

Her face melting into a smile, Elsa shifted back in the wardrobe, her heart swelling with gratitude as Jack walked in her direction. Reaching the wardrobe and standing right in front of her, he took the handle of the wardrobe's cupboard door, then pausing. He looked back to where her oldest councilman was still sitting bolt upright in his bed, wide awake and looking around the room.

"Hmm," Jack mused, "I need him to look away for a minute—what if we just— _ah!"_

Jack swept his staff forward, sending a gust of wind blowing under the bed to sweep up into the curtains on the other side of the room. As Ivar gasped, whipping around and looking to the window, Jack yanked open the door to the wardrobe, leaping in front of Elsa and closing the door behind him.

Their bodies squashed together, they stood silently in the darkness.

Finally, Jack cleared his throat. Elsa looked up, her heart leaping into her throat as she suddenly realized that her face was mere inches from his own, his piercingly blue eyes and white hair practically gleaming in the darkness.

"It occurs to me that there's no real reason that I got in here," Jack admitted softly. "But—well, I guess it's too late now. Comfy?"

She bit her lip, giving him a tiny nod.

Elsa tried to shift her weight onto her other foot, as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness again, but it was no use. She and Jack, between a pile of heavy boxes and the side of the wardrobe, were effectively crammed together to the point where she hardly was carrying weight on her feet anyway.

"I figure that we'll wait until he falls asleep again," Jack added. "Then I can get you out. But I think that should do it for tonight."

Elsa's heart swelled again. _Thank you,_ she mouthed.

"Wait, are you _thanking_ me?"

She gave a little shrug, nodding gratefully.

Standing crammed together in the wardrobe, the peaceful silence fell over them again. After a few moments, Jack started laughing under his breath.

She looked up, a wave of confusion sweeping over her face.

 _What?_ Elsa mouthed. _What is it?_

He shook his head, looking back into her eyes. "Naw, I just realized something," he chuckled.

Elsa raised her eyebrows in the question.

Jack shook his head, shifting against her in the crammed space again, the end of his shepherd's crook brushing past her ankle. "It _just_ occurred to me," Jack laughed, "Standing here. I could _totally_ start hitting on you right now—and you couldn't do a _thing_ about it."

Her mouth fell open in shock. Her eyes bulging, Elsa then froze as he silently let go off the staff, reaching forward and taking her hand in his own.

" _Hey_ there, little snowflake," Jack murmured softly, gazing suggestively into her eyes as he raised her hand to his lips. "You come here often?"

Elsa restrained from a snort.

Jack raised a single eyebrow, playing with her fingers, and continued. "So I hear you like _blizzards_ ," he said slowly, dropping his voice by another few tones, "Perhaps when we get through here, I could take you back to the mountains, and—you know—we could swirl up a little storm, or—oh, don't be so _coy_."

Elsa was now biting down hard on her lip, holding her breath as she struggled with all her might to hold back the fit of giggles building up in her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, and then opening them again, she rolled her eyes, shaking her head as Jack's smirk melted into a grin.

 _Wow,_ she mouthed.

Jack laughed, leaning his head back against the wall of the wardrobe as Elsa shifted on her feet, looking around them. Clearly, most of her councilman's clothes were discarded messily on his chair, and the dark, cramped little space clearly hadn't been cleaned for—well, maybe it had _never_ been cleaned. The boxes were covered with a thick layer of dust, as was the shelf above them, and Elsa could (from the light coming in through the crack) make out the gleam of cobwebs near the top of the structure, amongst even more dust.

 _Dust._

A wave of panic swept through Elsa's body, suddenly realizing how dirty it was. She got sick from just about _anything—_ and heaven forbid what would happen if she _sneezed._ Dusty. Dusty, dirty, and _oh,_ it was DUSTY; after so many years in her room, pristinely cleaned, it was only a matter of _time_ before—

Her nose started tingling.

Elsa froze, her heart leaping into her throat with horror. Oh, no.

"I mean—it doesn't _have_ to be a blizzard," Jack was saying flirtatiously, peering up at her through his eyelashes, "I mean, we could make some— _snowmen,_ if you know what I mean—apparently, we make _really_ cute ki—wait. Uh, Elsa?"

Elsa was squirming, crinkling and stretching her nose as she fought against the tingling. Her eyes wide, she gave her head a shake.

"What is it?" Jack asked quickly, "What's wrong? Why—oh, _Manny!_ " he gasped. " _You have to SNEEZE?!"_

She nodded frantically, crinkling and stretching her nose more desperately as the tickling feeling grew stronger.

"I—uh," Jack stammered, "Can you—not?"

Elsa glared.

"Right. Stupid question."

She nodded, giving her head another quick shake and starting to try to pull her hand out from the crammed space next to the box. It hit the side of the wardrobe with a _thump,_ and Jack abruptly sucked in his breath, looking out of the crack.

Ivar was staring at the wardrobe.

Elsa could practically feel her heart stop beating as her nose tingled more and more intensely, watching out of the crack as her oldest councilman began to get up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Oh, _NO!_ Elsa thought desperately, _He's heard me. And now he's listening, and he's going to be right there, and even IF I could somehow stifle it, there's still a chance that my sneeze would_ WAIT.

Elsa suddenly found herself remembering Princess Anna's birthday party from the previous summer.

A new wave of horror swept over her, and she looked back up. Jack's face was pale as he quickly glanced between her and the crack in the front of the wardrobe, watching Ivar creep closer.

"Okay. New plan," Jack said quickly, "On _three,_ I'm going to open the door and start throwing stuff at him. When I do, you _RUN._ Got it?"

She nodded, breathing heavily as she crinkled and uncrinkled her nose. Ivar was still walking towards them.

"One."

Elsa's nose was tingling more intensely now, heaving for breath as she tried to restrain. Ivar was nearly in front of the wardrobe.

" _Two!"_

Ivar was beginning to reach for the handle…

 _"_ _THREE!"_

"Ah _-CHOO!"_

 **BANG!**

 ** _"_** ** _AIEEEEEEEEEEEE!"_**

Jack threw the door open, shoving Elsa down and flinging out the first box, clothes and papers flying through the air as Ivar shrieked and tumbled backwards, tripping and falling onto his bed. Elsa gasped, seeing the distinct twinkling of four tiny snowmen materializing out of the air as Jack reached back to pull another pile of clothes out of the nearest box.

" _RUN!"_

Without a second thought, she scrambled onto her feet, sprinting for the door and yanking it open as one of the newly-formed snowgies ran past. More boxes and clothes flying out of the wardrobe in her peripheral vision as Ivar let out another bloodcurdling scream, Elsa leapt through the doorway, beginning to run down the hallway for the stairs just as a gust of ice-cold wind rushed past her.

" _NO! Not that way!"_

Elsa was suddenly jerked back by her waist, and stumbling backwards as Jack pulled her towards him. As the door to Ivar's room swung shut, Jack frantically pulled her from the shepherd's crook, spinning her around and slamming her up against the wall next to it, clapping his hand over her mouth.

Ivar's door banged open again, swinging over the space where Jack and Elsa stood. Her eyes bulging, Elsa watched as her councilman ran past them, screaming bloody murder as he sprinted down the hallway in bare feet and his nightshirt, the nightcap falling onto the ground behind him. Before she could even react, Jack was leaping away from her again, grabbing her hand and running back into Ivar's room, pulling her through the door again after him.

As the door swung closed behind them, voices started up in the hallway again, Ivar's extended family members waking. Jack was already across the bedroom, ripping back Ivar's curtains and cranking the window open.

"Sorry for grabbing you," he gasped, "Window okay?"

"I—"

 _"—_ _Great!"_

Before Elsa had the chance to respond, Jack suddenly leapt forward and grabbed her hand, jumping into the air and diving through the opening. Elsa tripped forward, gasping in pain as her hips slammed into the bottom of the windowsill.

Jerked back, Jack spun around in the air shock. As if he were suddenly remembering that Elsa couldn't fly, he then swooped back to the window, helping her scramble up onto the sill before more carefully pulling her out of Ivar's room.

Hardly a moment later, Elsa was being swung onto the ground, touching down onto the cobblestone of the street below once again. Jack dropped her hand, leaping back into the air again.

"I've gotta go shut the window and cellar before anyone sees," he said quickly, "I'll meet you back at the castle! _RUN!"_

"But—"

 _"_ _What's wrong now!?"_

Elsa's mind freezing into a blank panic, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Gesturing frantically, she tried again.

" _Little_ —like, _round_ , but—when I sneeze _!"_

" _What?_ What is it?!"

Suddenly catching glimpse of a sparkling white something running along the windowsill above them, Elsa gasped, pointing.

"Sn-snow— _SNOWGIES!"_ she stammered.

Jack whipped around, looking up to the window where she was pointing. Standing on the ledge, a four-inch-tall, round little snowman was running back and forth in the moonlight. Jack Frost's eyes bulged.

 _"_ _WHAT the—!?"_

The snowgie squeaked excitedly, bouncing up and spinning around to hop back into the room and out of sight. Elsa stumbled back as Jack leapt into the air, shooting upwards and scrambling into the window.

Whirling around, Elsa jumped and broke into a full sprint away from the building. Running across the town square, her mind raced as she frantically struggled to remember where all of the guards were stationed. If she tried to get into the castle from the outside—well, she could probably order them to keep quiet, but if a _counter-_ command was made without her— _!_

Finally reaching the end of the alleyway behind the market, she sucked in her breath, skidding and hopping to a stop before rounding the corner to keep running. No. Jack had said to just _meet_ at the castle—if she beat him there, she would just have to find a place to hide _,_ before—

All of a sudden, a shadow fell across the cobblestone in front of her, and Elsa gasped, looking up. A moment later, holding a squirming pillowcase that she assumed could only be filled with tiny snowmen, Jack Frost was sweeping down onto the ground in front of her.

"Hold this," he gasped.

Before Elsa could respond, he shoved the squirming, happily squeaking pillowcase into her arms, then bending down and scooping her up into his own. He readjusted his grip on both her and the staff, and then shot up into the air.

The castle wall came and went as they flew, far beneath them as they soared over the town, then swooping down again onto Elsa's balcony. As soon as he set her down, Jack lunged forward and grasped the handle of one of the glass the doors, and within a few moments they were stumbling into her art gallery, choking and gasping for breath.

With the tall balcony doors closed again behind them, Elsa turned around, leaning against the glass. Jack did so as well, sliding down against it onto the floor, and Elsa set the pillowcase down between them, her heart still pounding as she joined him.

" _Run,"_ she gasped. "That's it. THAT'S your idea."

"I never said it was a good one."

Sitting together on the floor, Elsa and Jack struggled to catch their breath, both staring forward into the silence.

Elsa shifted on her hips.

"I am never trusting your ideas again," she breathed.

"Hey. It _worked,_ didn't it?"

" _That's_ your definition of 'working?'"

"We didn't get caught."

"We ALMOST got caught."

Jack started laughing, throwing back his head and clapping his hand over his eyes.

" _What?"_ Elsa demanded. "What's so funny?"

Letting out a long, low whistle, Jack pulled his hand down from his face, slowly shaking his head.

 _"_ _Just be a little creepy. Mess with his head,"_ Jack chuckled bitterly. "We don't want to really _scare_ him, or anything. Just make him a little uncomfortable staying here."

"Right."

The silence fell over them once again as they stared forward into Elsa's art gallery.

"Or," Jack started again, "We could give him such a bone-chillingly _terrifying_ experience that it will haunt his dreams for the next thirty years."

"Yeah," Elsa choked, gasping for breath. "We could do that."

He leaned his head back against the glass door, exhaling slowly. "Maybe I should go alone next time."

"That's probably for the best."

"And, in the _meantime_ ," he breathed, looking to her, " _You,_ Snowflake, have got some _serious_ explaining to do."

"About what?"

Jack Frost said nothing, raising his eyebrows and turning towards her to reach his hand into the pillowcase. As he pulled out one of the tiny snowmen—holding it up between them—Elsa felt her throat tighten with embarrassment.

"What. The _blizzards,"_ Jack sputtered, "Are _THESE!?"_


	54. Snowflakes and Saxifrage

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, guys! In an effort to get the actual Author's Notes shorter again, I'm moving to putting personalized stuff in italics. Hope it works. Shoutout to reader for reminding me of something that inspired a lot of this chapter, and also, there's a certain _phrase_ at the end of this chapter... well, if it confuses you, go re-read _Chocolate and Analysis_ to remind yourself what it's referring to. ;) I love you all, a HUGE thank you to everybody that's reviewed, thank you SO much for reading, and I hope you have a fantabulous day! :D **

_To Guest Reviewers Guest986 and Amethyst: I love you forever and you are wonderful. Please feel free to keep showering me with praise. ;)_

 _To Guest Reviewer RandomReader: I'll admit, I was sort of confused by your review, because chapter 36 is literally almost exactly the same… I stopped rewriting as soon as I reached the under-the-bed scene, and then just tied the new stuff to the old stuff. Are you sure it didn't just get shifted?_

 **CONTENT WARNING: Sexual innuendo. As usual.**

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 **54: SNOWFLAKES AND SAXIFRAGE**

.

"So… _every time_ you sneeze."

"Pretty much."

Elsa bit her lip and determinately kept staring down into her lap. Jack laughed softly under his breath, shaking his head as the tiny snowman squeaked and leapt up into his hand, practically shivering with delight as it nuzzled his fingers and then collapsed down happily against the Guardian's thumb.

"Okay," Jack chuckled, "If we _hadn't_ almost just gotten caught—I'm pretty sure that this is the most adorable thing I've ever seen."

Sitting on the floor and leaning up against the wall of her art gallery, Elsa swallowed hard.

"And," she choked, "Um—if we _did_ almost get caught?"

Jack snorted. " _Still_ the most adorable thing I've ever seen," he countered. "It's hilarious."

"It's embarrassing."

"Daw, you don't _mean_ that," he laughed. "Just _wook_ at dees widdle guys!"

"New favorite type of ice?" Elsa asked hopefully.

The Spirit of Winter grinned wryly, his eyebrow twitching as he glanced over to her again.

"Not a _chance in the world_ , Snowflake," he chuckled.

Elsa blushed, rolling her eyes and pulling her knees into her chest. It didn't really bother her as much as it had the day before.

If she was completely honest with herself, it didn't particularly bother her at _all._

"Ah- _choo!"_

Three more tiny snowmen suddenly materialized out of the air, the first falling onto the nearest ice shelf and the other two bouncing happily onto the carpet. Elsa sniffed, rubbing her arm across her nose as the closest snowgie spun around, running into Jack's leg and falling over backwards as he laughed.

" _Only_ you, Snowflake," he grinned, reaching down with his free hand a scooping up the tiny snowman. "You _sneeze,_ and cuteness appears. I don't see a downside."

"It would be different if I had made them intentionally," she admitted, watching the snowgie curling up in Jack's remaining free hand.

He shrugged. "Okay, _that_ I can sympathize with."

"What do you mean?"

"Think Olaf, darling."

Elsa shoved him.

Jack laughed, rolling back into place as the snowgie squeaked and leapt out of his hand. It dropped onto the floor, immediately running forward and bumping into the tiny snowman that was already standing there, setting off another chain reaction of confused, giggly squeaks as they tumbled over next to Jack's outstretched foot.

Elsa's heart swelled.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "Again. By the way."

"For what?"

Elsa looked into his eyes.

"Wait," Jack asked, laughing breathily, "For—for _that?_ For introducing you to pranking?"

She shrugged, scooting an inch towards him on the floor. "You're helping me with my Council."

Before he could respond, Elsa leaned over, and gingerly placed her head on his shoulder.

Jack froze, looking to her in surprise. After a few seconds, the Spirit of Winter then shifted against the wall, his muscles relaxing as the Snow Queen scooted another inch closer to him. He reached his arm around her shoulders.

"Your majesty," Jack Frost whispered, giving her a gentle squeeze. "It has been: an _honor_."

.

.

Early the next morning, despite the fact that the sun wouldn't be up for another few hours, Elsa was up and dressed, putting on her makeup as Jack sat on the floor playing with the small hoard of miniature snowmen that were now gathered in the corner of her room.

" _Ah-CHOO!"_

Jack looked up in surprise as two more snowgies materialized out of the air, falling onto the Ice Powers Girl's dresser.

"You're _STILL sick?!"_ he exclaimed. "How is that even _possible?"_

Elsa didn't answer, flicking her wrist and whipping an icy handkerchief into existence.

 _HOOOOOOOOOOONK._

Disintegrating the tissue into the air, she sniffed.

"No immune system," Elsa choked.

" _I'll_ say!"

"Mr. Hauge's room was _dirty,_ okay?"

Jack shook his head, uncrossing his legs. Picking up his staff and planting the end of it in the carpet, he then pulled himself up from the floor, carefully hopping over the icy playground that he'd constructed for the now forty tiny snowmen that were happily squeaking and running around in the corner of Elsa's bedroom.

Walking up to her, he came to her side just as she whipped another icy handkerchief into the air, pulling it to her nose again.

 _HOOOOOOOOOOONK._

"Uh—Elsa?" Jack asked quietly, looking at her in concern as she folded up the tissue, "I—okay, I usually like the ice-cloth thing, but are you sure that's a good idea?"

A wave of confusion swept over her face. "What do you mean?"

"Well—you're _sick_ ," he said, "And that's—ice. Like—you have a cold—and you're putting _more cold_ on it."

"It's never bothered me."

"Are you sure about that?"

Elsa leaned back up against the dresser, staring down at the folded-up ice tissue in her hand. After a few moments, she sighed, flicking her fingers and disintegrating it into the air.

"I suppose you're right," she admitted.

Jack watched as Elsa pushed herself away from the dresser, turning around and bending down to pull out one of its bottom drawers. Kneeling down onto the carpet, her long capelet spread out behind her, she then began to dig through it.

"I _know_ I have a box in here somewhere," she muttered, pushing aside a pile of lacy, cream-colored fabric as Jack raised his eyebrows, "And I pretty sure that—ah- _hah!"_

Reaching all the way into the back of the drawer, Elsa took hold of something, pulling it forwards. As she sat back onto her heels, placing it onto the top of the dresser, Jack realized that it was a tiny wooden box, elaborately painted with flowers and crowns in Arendelle's traditional style.

"Memory Box," Elsa explained, taking Jack's hand as he helped pull her up onto her feet.

"And you'll have a handkerchief in there?"

"I was a princess. I did a lot of needlework."

She opened the box, the tiny hinges creaking softly as she did. Jack then watched as the Snow Queen pulled up a delicate piece of cloth, handing it to him.

"See?" Elsa laughed. "Needlework. Welcome to having a royal childhood, Frost."

He took it. " _This_ is what you did for fun?"

"No. It's how we _pretended_ to have fun," she retorted, "Princesses start basic needlework pretty young, so I was still with Anna sometimes when we were sewing. Then, we'd take over the ballroom in the middle of the night and build snowmen."

"Ah, that's more like it."

Jack looked down to the handkerchief, stepping to the side and leaning his staff up against the dresser as he did so. Inspecting it with both hands, he raised his eyebrows.

"So—wait," he realized, "How young _were_ you? If you were still with Anna? This does NOT look like a little kid's work."

"Oh. Well— _that_ one isn't," Elsa admitted, leaning forward and looking down at the little piece. "I think I was about—wow, I haven't thought about it in a long while. I think I might have been about nine, when I stitched that one."

"Still a kid."

"I was a _princess."_

"Nine-year-old girl. Same difference."

Elsa's smile faded. After a few moments, she pulled her hands into her stomach and looked down to her feet, her eyes soft with sadness once again.

Jack's stomach twisted.

"So! Uh," he blurted, making her snap her head up, "This—the design. Flowers?"

"Oh! Right. Wildflowers!"

Jack relaxed slightly as the Ice Powers Girl took a step towards him, starting to smile again. "Wildflowers, huh?"

" _All_ of my favorites. Cloudberry, lily of the valley, foxglove, willowherb, and, of _course_ ," Elsa explained, pointing to the stitching, "I _always_ included PLENTY of white saxifrage flowers. I kind of made a point of it, actually."

"Saxifrage?" he asked, a look of confusion sweeping over his features. "But—those flowers usually have five petals—don't they? And all of these have six."

Glancing back up into her eyes, Jack Frost realized that Elsa was grinning.

" _Whoops_ ," she whispered slyly.

His mouth fell open.

"You," Jack gasped, "You—you _passive aggressive_ little— _!"_

The Ice Powers Girl giggled self-consciously, covering her mouth with her hand as Jack looked back down to the cloth, studying the dozens of delicate, six-petalled white flowers sprinkled across the little princess's embroidery. The girl's defiant snowflakes were hidden in plain sight.

Oh, _man_ , she was good.

Jack laughed softly under his breath, shaking his head as he tossed the handkerchief to himself. He looked back up into her eyes.

"Are you _sure_ you were never on the Naughty List?" he chuckled.

Her cheeks still flushed, Elsa shrugged. "I liked snowflakes."

He raised his eyebrows.

"So do I," Jack said softly, reaching forward and flicking the end of her nose.

Elsa blushed again, smiling shyly as her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink.

"Can I keep this?" Jack asked, running his thumb over the embroidery.

"Oh. Sure! I mean, of course," Elsa said. "And I'm sort of impressed that you know Saxifrage. I wouldn't have figured that the Spirit of Winter would know his flower varieties."

"When you've spent three hundred years snooping around for edible plants, you get pretty familiar with that sort of thing," he admitted. "And, besides. Saxifrage was always Emma's favorite."

Elsa jolted.

 _"_ _Emma?"_ she stammered, her eyes wide. "Who—who's Emma?"

"Oh. My—um," Jack said softly. "Emma was my sister."

Suddenly nervous, Jack looked down to his feet, reaching up with his free hand and rubbing the back of his neck.

Elsa's shoulders relaxed slightly. "You had a sister?"

"Before I died."

He pressed his lips together, wincing internally as the word hung on the air. Hardly seeming to notice it, Elsa's eyes softened. She dropped her voice to a whisper and took a tiny step towards him.

"Oh, Jack… I'm _so_ sorry," she said. "Did she die, too?"

"No, I—actually," Jack admitted, snapping his head back up, "That's—well, she was on a cracking part in the ice."

"What do you mean?"

"Well—we were skating. And then—okay, the ice wasn't as thick as I thought," he choked softly. "But Emma was on it. And—she was scared. And that scared me, but I figured that, if I could get her to move _forward_ enough, I could grab her."

Looking around, Jack remembered his staff, and leapt forward to the dresser, picking it up with his free hand. Dropping the handkerchief back next to the box, he then took a step back with the shepherd's crook.

"And then, I—well," he said, tossing it to himself, "I—did. I was able to yank her out and switch places. I mean, it's a pretty simple to do that."

Elsa's eyes were wide, hanging on his every word as Jack gently swung the staff outwards to demonstrate.

"And then, it—I—um," he finished under his breath, pulling the shepherd's crook back into his chest, "I fell through."

An uncomfortable silence descending over the room, Jack stared down at his staff, gingerly rubbing his thumb along its familiarly gritty old texture. It softly glowed in response, a fine layer of frost flowering over its length beneath his fingers. Shaking his head, Jack then took a step to the side and leaned the staff back up against the dresser, taking the handkerchief again and staring at the hidden snowflakes in its embroidery.

In his peripheral vision, Jack saw Elsa take a hesitant step forward, the sparkling swirls of frost on her skirt glistening in the lamplight. He looked up.

"Jack Frost—are you telling me that you _died_ ," she breathed, "Because—you were _saving your little sister's life?"_

"Well—yeah." Jack let out a nervous laugh, anxiously reaching up with his free hand and running his fingers through his hair. "I mean, I guess. Manny was pretty impressed, apparently, and—uh—"

His voice trailed off. Looking back to her, Jack suddenly realized that the Ice Powers Girl was holding her hands over her heart, silently gazing at him in adoration.

"Uh—Elsa?" he asked hesitantly, "Are you—is everything okay?"

She said nothing, her mouth hanging open in dreamy disbelief.

" _Oh,"_ Elsa swooned.

 _Knock knock._

They turned to the door. The knocking came again, this time accompanied by an eager sing-song.

"Oooooooh, _sister!"_ Anna's voice giggled from somewhere out in the hallway, "Are you almost ready? They're getting the carriage right now!"

 _"_ _Coming!"_

Letting out his breath, Jack took a step back, pocketing the embroidered handkerchief as Elsa ran for the door. Pulling it open, she laughed as a heavily bundled-up Princess Anna lurched forward into the room, falling into her arms.

 _"_ _I'm so excited!"_ Anna gasped, "I can't _wait_ to see all the kids! It's been at least two months—right? Are we still bringing books to read to them?"

Elsa nodded, helping Anna back onto her feet. "That's the plan."

"And I _just_ got breakfast from Carol," Anna bubbled, pulling a bag out from underneath her cloak. "We've got biscuits, and berries, and sausages, along with our dessert samples, and apparently, they've already packed lunch. We're going to eat on the road and, I'm personally _REALLY_ excited for—oh, _hi_ , Jack!" she exclaimed, noticing him for the first time. "How are you?"

"Morning, Anna," Jack chuckled. "I'm fine. And _you_ seem pretty happy to be alive."

"I _am!"_ she squealed, "I am _SO_ excited! The kids are amazing. And, we're the bearers of good news today!"

"Wait. Is this—is this about that Children's Party thing?"

" _Yes!"_

Elsa laughed, smiling at her sister's delight. "We usually go around to the children at the schools every couple months, but winter makes traveling ah- _CHOO!"_

She suddenly sneezed again, and two more snowgies spun into existence around her. Anna looked down, seeing all of the tiny snowmen with a gasp.

"This baby bump is making me _blind!"_ she exclaimed as the pair of squeaking snowgies fell to the ground and ran past the bottom hem of her dress. _"Elsa!_ How long have you been sick!?"

"Just since last night," Elsa sniffed.

"Are you sure that you can still do this?"

"I'm _fine!"_

Anna turned to Jack, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Is she _actually_ fine, or is she just being Elsa and _saying_ that?"

Before he could respond, the three suddenly heard the clomping of hooves as Kristoff and Sven came into the bedroom. The reindeer whinnied, and Kristoff gave him a hearty pat on his back.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about, but _forget_ the stupid _carriage_ ," he said proudly. "If you want it, _I've_ got the _best_ sled around. And, we've just gotten back, so I have time to—"

"—No, _you_ need to get your sleep," Anna interjected. "You've been up since two in the morning with the ice business. And I do _not_ want you to be a Cranky Kristoff when we come home."

"I will _not_ be a Cranky Kristoff."

The reindeer snorted, rolling its eyes. Jack restrained from a laugh.

"Oh, hush," Kristoff muttered, glancing to the reindeer with disdain.

"Seriously, though, we need to get going," Anna said, looking to Elsa again. "Do you want to…?" She gestured to Jack.

Elsa's face fell. "Oh…"

Jack felt a wave of disappointment sweep over him as well, realizing what Anna meant. Elsa took a step towards him.

"So, I—um," she choked. "I—I have to go."

"Yeah."

She bit her lip, fidgeting with her fingers again as the two simultaneously looked downward, awkwardly staring at the carpet as the others stood by. Letting out a nervous, breathy laugh, Elsa then took another timid step forward.

"So—uh," she stammered, "Did—did you want to—"

" _Right!"_

"I mean—"

"No, we _could!_ If—"

"Um—"

 _"_ _Heh—!"_

Anna and Kristoff exchanged smug glances as the young queen suddenly leapt into Jack Frost's arms, cutting him off and throwing her own arms around his neck. Aware that he was being watched, Jack awkwardly hugged her back, his heart leaping as he felt the Ice Powers Girl's soft hair brush past his face.

 _Wooooooooow…_

"Well—um," Elsa asked softly, pulling away from the hug. "I—I'll see you at dinner? Then?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah!"

Jack forced a smile as he let go, reluctantly dropping his arms back to his sides. Giving him a last, shy little smile, the Ice Powers Girl then stepped back away from him, turning and quickly walking out of the bedroom after her sister.

Jack's heart sank as the last of Elsa's sparkling, icy capelet whisked from the room.

The reindeer whinnied empathetically, and Jack turned around. Kristoff was staring at him, a slight smirk on the edge of his mouth.

"Don't worry," he said. "They're always back before they think they're going to be. The guy driving the carriage likes to get home before dark."

"That's good to know," Jack sighed. Not looking directly as Kristoff, he then drew in his breath, turning back to the dresser and picking up his staff. "Honestly, though, I—I should go, too. I've got some snooping to do. Castle to explore, you know?"

He turned and started walking for the door as Elsa's brother-in-law started chuckling under his breath.

"Yeah… waiting for your girlfriend to get back is always a bummer," Kristoff enunciated. "Even for a… let's see, _what_ was it? A... _Sexy Humanoid Ice Powers Thing?"_

Jack froze.


	55. Christmas Gifts of Past and Present

**55: CHRISTMAS GIFTS OF PAST AND PRESENT**

A wave of nausea rushing over him, Jack felt his face drain of color. After a long moment of horrified silence—turning to look in the direction of Kristoff and the reindeer—the Youngest Guardian pulled in his breath.

"I—I have no idea what you're talking about," Jack stammered.

Avoiding eye contact, he turned back and continued to walk away, only to be jerked back as Kristoff lunged forward and caught the back of his hood.

 _"Urk!"_

"Oh," Kristoff chuckled, pulling him back. "I think you know _exactly_ what I'm talking about."

Kristoff dropped the hood, crossing his thick arms over his chest as the reindeer walked after him. Seeing that even the _reindeer_ was smirking—staring at him with disconcertingly knowing eyes—Jack Frost swallowed hard.

"How many people know?" he choked.

Kristoff raised his eyebrows, leaning back against the reindeer's rump. "Elsa told Anna. Anna told me," he said casually.

"So… it's just you, and me, and the rest of Arendelle," Jack squeaked. "Great."

Seeing Jack's expression, Elsa's brother-in-law restrained from a laugh. " _Relax_ , Snowmeo," he said good-naturedly. "It's not all _that_ big of a deal. I just want to give you some advice."

"About what?"

Kristoff raised his eyebrows again.

Oh.

"I… um," Jack choked, "Ah. Right..."

"As somebody that was raised by love experts—okay, seriously, there are some _ground rules_ here," Kristoff said, crossing his left ankle over his right as he leaned back against the reindeer. "Look. _I_ know you think she's sexy. _You_ know you think she's sexy. You think she's _dang_ sexy. But that DOESN'T MEAN that _you get to come right out and_ ** _SAY_** **IT!"**

The reindeer snorted, nodding in agreement. A look of confusion swept over Jack's face.

"Uh," he said slowly. "Why no—"

"— _Because,"_ Kristoff scoffed, "When you've known a woman for _three days_ , there are _some_ things that you _do not say!"_

Jack Frost felt a sudden pang of embarrassment hit him in the chest.

Intensely uncomfortable with the situation, he looked down to his feet, shifting his fingers on the staff as he tried to decide how to respond.

"I—uh," he mumbled, "Well. _Thanks_ —for that—Kristoff. I'll be—"

"—You could have said _beautiful._ You could have said _lovely._ For all it's worth, you _could_ have used the opportunity to _actually hit on her,"_ Kristoff scoffed, "But, _NOOOOO!_ Why would Jack Frost do _that,_ when he could choose the _totally inappropriate_ response, and tell the reigning Queen of Arendelle that she's a _Sexy Humanoid Ice Powers Thing,_ instead?"

Jack's face flushed an even deeper shade of red. Suddenly wishing that he could crawl into a hole, he shuffled a step backwards.

"Well, it's _weird_ when _you_ say it," he grumbled embarrassedly.

Kristoff snorted, rolling his eyes with a grin as he leaned back against the reindeer again. "Fair enough, Snowmeo," he chuckled. "But you want to know something about smart, naïve women? _They. Don't. Stay. Naïve._ "

"Good, because it's annoying—"

"—If your intentions aren't pure anymore, Elsa's going to find out," Kristoff interrupted again. "Women _always find out._ And if _Elsa's_ mad at you, you're going to _need_ to go to Antarctica."

To this, Jack's face broke into a real grin for the first time since Elsa had left. Kristoff smiled knowingly, turning around as the reindeer whinnied in agreement, looking at Jack with uncomfortably intelligent eyes once again.

"Wait," Jack suddenly realized. "Why are you telling me this? I thought you were wanting Elsa to stay away from me."

A look of surprise swept over Kristoff's face. After a few moments—choosing his words carefully—he pulled in his breath.

"I think you guys could be good together," Kristoff said. "I just don't—I don't want to see any of this end badly."

"You mean—like," Jack whispered, "Like—if Elsa freaked out? If she—if she lost control, or something?"

Kristoff and the reindeer looked to each other.

After a long, silent pause, Kristoff took a deep breath again.

"Um— _yeah_ ," the ice man conceded, nodding, but not looking directly into Jack Frost's eyes. "If— _Elsa—_ lost control. Right."

Kristoff patted the animal's side, and it clomped forward towards the doorway.

"So, you're on my side now?" Jack blurted.

Pausing just before coming out into the hallway, Jack watched as Kristoff turned around.

"You know what?" Kristoff admitted softly, a little grin tugging at the edge of his mouth "I—yeah. I think I am."

A wave of relief swept over Jack's body. His face cracked into a smile, and he tossed his staff into his other hand, watching as Elsa's brother-in-law turned away and started to leave again.

"Oh… and one more thing," Kristoff added, pausing and glancing back over his shoulder. "I—an early Christmas present. I'm just gonna… pretend that I haven't been _noticing,_ the snowy little sleepovers, that you two have been having in here every night?"

Jack's heart leapt into his throat. Taking a tiny step back, he reached up, rubbing the back of his neck as blood rushed to his face.

"Ah," he choked. "You caught that, huh?"

"There might be some rumors," Kristoff chuckled. "Like, how the guards are saying that she's been soundproofing the room _every evening?_ And that, in the morning, the doors are always _frozen_ _shut?"_

Jack's eyebrows lifted. Drawing himself up, he then met Kristoff's gaze again, throwing his shoulders back as he stuck his free hand into his pocket.

"Got a problem with that?" Jack asked.

"Should I?"

Jack's shoulders relaxed. "You realize that this is _Elsa_ we're talking about," he chuckled. "Right?"

"You realize that you're the _Spirit of WINTER,"_ Kristoff retorted. "Right?"

To this, Jack looked down, giving a self-conscious kick at the carpet. He shook his head.

"Well, titles aside," he shrugged, "You can relax. Elsa and I are—friends."

Hearing the word come out of his own mouth, Jack winced slightly. Kristoff smirked, muttering under his breath as he turned away and walked from the room. _"Sexy Humanoid Ice Powers_ friends…"

"GOODBYE, Kristoff."

"See you later, Snowmeo."

.

.

Jack Frost was absolutely _wonderful._

Happily lost in thought, Elsa stared out the window of the royal carriage as it bounced and trundled down the country street. It was snowing, and if it were even possible, the softly falling flurries now meant even _more_ to her than they had in Christmas seasons past. As a child, she'd spent _countless_ hours staring out of the royal carriage's windows at the swirling snow, imagining to herself that the white-haired Spirit of Winter was somewhere above them, flying through the clouds and stirring up a storm with his magical staff.

Elsa was _never_ going to get over how Jack had acted in Ivar's closet.

Smiling dreamily, she closed her eyes, practically feeling his icy hand around her own in the memory. He probably would have flirted like that with _anyone,_ but—well. She _did_ have ice powers. And, she _did_ like blizzards, just as much as he did. It was pretty self-flattering to believe that someone like _him_ could ever, under ANY circumstances, be interested in someone like _her,_ but in her heart, Elsa couldn't deny that—if her ice powers were _really_ so attractive to him—Jack Frost would be hard-pressed to _ever_ find another young woman that had them.

"Oh, _Ellllllllllll-saaaaaaaaaaaa…"_

If it weren't for her ice powers, Elsa was certain that he wouldn't be interested in her at _all._ But, for as long as she _had_ them… did she _maybe_ have a chance?

She had always been skeptical of things that seemed too good to be true…

 _"_ _EARTH TO THE QUEEN!"_

Elsa gasped in shock, jumping and whipping around. Sitting across from her in the carriage, Princess Anna—thoroughly bundled up, and resting her hands on her enormously pregnant stomach—burst out laughing.

"You still have fourteen questions _left_ , Sissy," she giggled, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Or did you—get distracted again?"

Elsa blushed. "I'm sorry," she admitted. "I—I did. What were you saying?"

"I wasn't actually saying anything right then. What do you remember?"

Elsa jolted as the carriage hit a bump, jostling the sisters in their seats. Sitting back, she then looked thoughtfully upwards, counting off on her fingers as she racked her memory for their previous conversation.

"Let's see…" she muttered. "It's not in the carriage, it's not an animal, it's not a plant, it's bigger than a breadbox, but not bigger than a tree, and it's something I—like?"

"Mm- _hmm_ ," Anna giggled.

Anna's cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she bit her lip, visibly struggling to not burst out into another fit of hysterical giggling. Elsa stared at her in confusion, puzzling over the riddle for another few moments. Until—

Elsa's mouth fell open.

"It's _Jack!_ " Elsa exclaimed. "Isn't it? You're thinking of _Jack! AGAIN!_ "

 _"_ _YES!"_

Elsa rolled her eyes, scoffing and crossing her arms over her chest. "Anna, _must_ we talk about boys every _single_ time we're alone?"

"Yes. We're _sisters_ ," Anna retorted. "It's part of the deal. UPDATES. _Spill."_

She grinned, the mischievous twinkle in her eyes again. Elsa laughed nervously, giving her a quick shrug. "Jack. He's—amazing, and brilliant, and wonderful, and _completely out of my league._ Nothing to update."

Anna smirked. "Yes. _Nothing,"_ she drawled. "That's _exactly_ why you've got those big, dark circles under your eyes."

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat.

After a few moments of silence—her cheeks turning pink—Elsa shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"We—were up late," she choked.

Anna giggled again. "I'm sure."

"It's _not_ like that!"

"Uh-huh."

"Anna—he's _Jack. Frost,"_ Elsa choked, leaning forward. "He's—okay, seriously? He's one of _The Guardians_. That kind of _automatically_ means that I have no reasonable chance with him."

Anna raised her eyebrows. "Wait—you're _STILL_ all caught up thinking that _you're_ the one being friendzoned here?"

"I wasn't going to put it quite like that," Elsa sighed. "But—yes. I suppose. It makes sense."

"No, it doesn't."

"I mean, I _know_ it's unrealistic to think that Jack and I could ever—but—but I just wish that— _!_ "

Her voice trailed off. Biting the edge of her lip with a scoff, Elsa stared down into her lap, her face falling as she mentally scolded herself.

But she _did_ have ice powers in her favor…

"So…" Anna said slowly. "You're _admitting_ that you like him."

To this, Elsa scoffed, shrugging as the carriage jolted again, her hips rocking her to the side. "I've always _liked_ him, Anna."

"Yeah, but… you _like_ him, or you…" Anna's voice trailed off, and she waggled her eyebrows, " _LIKE._ Him?"

Elsa's eyes widened slightly. After a few moments of silence—considering the question—she pulled in her breath.

"I like him very much," Elsa said softly.

Anna grinned.

The carriage hit another bump, and the two rocked to the side, sucking in their breath. As Anna rocked forwards, her hand on her enormous stomach as she was thrown off-balance, Elsa instinctively lunged across the carriage to catch her.

 _"_ _I'm okay!"_ Anna exclaimed, rocking back into the seat.

Elsa gingerly sat back on the other side, her face flushed. "So help me, if that carriage lurches _one more time—"_

"Elsa, I'm _fine—"_

 _"—_ _I am going to_ CLIMB ON TOP OF IT, and ice-blast us a set of _tracks!"_

To this, Anna laughed. "You _would."_

"Well," Elsa grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and looking out the window, "We should be switching to the sled runners from the wheels soon enough. I mean, we're almost too far out of the main kingdom for the roads to still be safe without them."

"So, Jack is staying here through Christmas," Anna said suddenly, changing the subject back again. "Right?"

"I believe so," Elsa responded. "I mean, I certainly _hope_ so."

"Well… he said he'd come to the Christmas Eve Ball, so it would be kind of weird for him to just fly away right after it finished," Anna shrugged. "Which means that _you_ need to be thinking about what you're going to give him for Christmas."

Elsa's eyes widened at the sudden realization. Christmas. Anna was right. And it was already December 17th. Which left her with _only_ … _!_

Oh, no.

Looking up, Elsa realized that her sister had already long-since launched into her own list of gift ideas. Snapping back into focus, she bit her lip, hoping that she hadn't missed too much of what her sister had already said.

"Well, at _first,_ I was going to commission a portrait of Prince Hans so that you could use it as a dartboard, but then I thought, oh, right, I'D be using it more than you, so that's out," Anna reasoned, "And then, I was thinking chocolate, but again, I'd probably eat it all before it got to you, so that's out, too. Even though you ARE going to be giving me ten pounds of it, before long."

"I still say that I'm going to win."

"Oh, hush. He's got another eight days," Anna retorted. "And from that little _blush_ of yours, I'd say he's making MORE than enough progress as it is."

"We're friends!"

"Uh-huh."

" _Please_ tell me you weren't actually _considering_ making a Prince Hans dartboard," Elsa said, changing the subject.

Her sister raised her eyebrows. " _I_ thought it was brilliant," she giggled. "You know you'd like it."

"Well—I'm not sure," Elsa sighed, "To be completely honest, I—I'm still really struggling to forgive him. I mean—I appreciate the thought, but I don't think a dartboard would help."

Anna's mouth fell open in shock.

"He _tried to kill you!"_ she gasped.

"And you. Don't forget _that."_

Anna nodded, biting the edge of her lip. Her face pained at the memory, Elsa stared down into her lap.

She closed her eyes.

"I wish I could just get over it," Elsa choked. "I mean—the thing with Prince Linus, and—well, it kind of riled me up again. I just don't want to remember that man at all."

"My child is going to have the _best_ aunt," Anna breathed. "You're _saintly_. You know that, right?"

"You're very kind."

"I'm _serious!"_

"I'm far from _saintly,_ Anna," Elsa sighed, looking up with a hint of a smile. "But, that means a lot to me. Coming from you."

Her sister smiled bitterly. "I don't even know how you can _talk_ about forgiveness," she scoffed, resting her arms on her pregnant stomach. "I mean, you _realize_ who we're _talking_ about, right?"

"I said, _forgive_ him. Not _trust_ him."

" _Saint_. As I said."

The two sisters fell silent, the carriage bumping and bouncing as it came to a turn. The driver slowed for a moment, carefully pulling it around the corner of the old street before speeding up again, trundling down the road once again.

"We should talk about something happier," Anna choked softly.

Elsa nodded. "Like what?"

Anna grinned again, waggling her eyebrows as she drummed her fingers on her stomach.

"Jack," Elsa sighed. "Right. _Back_ to Jack…"

"Yeeeeeeeep." Anna grinned, sitting back into her seat. "Which means that YOU need to figure out a present for him."

"What are you doing?"

She shrugged. "I have a feeling that Jack's going to need a favor from me at some point here in the near future."

To this, Elsa laughed. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and adjusted her hips on the seat.

"You _know_ it's true," Anna chuckled. "As for _yours,_ though. Do you want to brainstorm, or…?"

"If it's alright," Elsa admitted, "I—can I just _think_ for a while? I mean, I think I'd do better that way. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

Biting the edge of her lip, Elsa shifted on her hips, looking to the window and gazing out of it as the peaceful silence fell over the carriage once again. Back in the previous summer, for Anna's birthday, she'd had _no_ idea what to do—frankly, after so many years of isolation, Elsa hardly even knew who her sister _was_. So, on that occasion, she'd simply gotten everything she could think of, and Anna, being Anna, had loved all of it. But Jack was different. After three hundred years of invisibility, if he'd harbored a love of objects, he could have easily gotten all he wanted. But, clearly, his love wasn't put into _things._ No—for Jack Frost, _trinkets_ simply would not do.

But what would?

.

.

Pulling the door shut behind him, Jack Frost silently stepped into Elsa's childhood bedroom. Still invisible to the guards (as well as the various politicians and nobles walking about the castle), he had elected to use his time alone to do some research.

Despite the fact that it was probably a bit premature, Jack had taken the liberty of beginning to look around the nearby town for a replacement council; the advantage of being invisible was that he could conduct interviews by simply watching how the potential candidates acted in their daily lives. While the Ice Alliance had only hit _one_ of the current geezers, and while Said Geezer _apparently_ hadn't yet turned in an official resignation (oh, Jack would see about _that),_ the 319-year-old Guardian of Fun knew enough about people to know _jeeeeeust_ how little it took to spook them. A couple of strange disturbances, a few rumors spread around the castle in hushed tones, and the Snow Queen's nasty old Council was as good as gone.

Not that Jack had already been mentally rehearsing the Ice Powers Girl's overwhelmed, teary-eyed and adoring response, or anything.

Turning away from the door and tossing the shepherd's crook into his other hand, Jack walked forward into the room. Even though he had first been introduced to it a mere two days before, the bedroom was already strangely familiar to him. Apparently, as he'd recently learned, the Spirit of Winter had spent a lot of time here in Elsa's childhood, even though he was (at _that_ point) nothing more than a snowy fantasy in the little princess's head. But, fantasy or otherwise, the Guardian of Fun was reverently aware of the power of belief.

Coming to the edge of the narrow, one-person bed, Jack dropped his shepherd's crook onto the carpet, crouching down and sitting on the floor. Lying down, he reached for the bedskirt, flicking it out of the way just before he rolled underneath.

Thrown into the darkness, Jack flopped over onto his stomach. If he weren't careful, he could easily spend the whole DAY under here, just… remembering her. And that moment.

 _Their_ moment.

He smiled dumbly to himself, practically feeling her body next to his own once again. Elsa was _so_ amazing...

After a few moments pause, Jack scoffed to himself, crawling forward towards the headboard. He knew the books were here, and if he did it by _feel,_ then he wouldn't have to light the stupid candle.

Reaching forward with his left hand, Jack felt his knuckles brush against something papery. His heart leaping, he then felt along the pile of books until his hand was waving through an empty darkness again. Pulling it back, Jack now knew which of the books was on the very top of the furthest pile to the left.

Reaching forward and grasping the little book, Jack pulled it to his chest. He then rolled back out from underneath Elsa's childhood bed.

Coming out again, Jack blinked in the sudden light as he pushed himself up, scrambling onto his feet. Picking up his shepherd's crook, Jack then straightened up again, turning over the little book and looking at the title.

.

 _Faeries, Spirits, and Sprites: Timeless Stories for Children_

.

Jack tossed the book in his hand, turning it onto its side to realize that there was a slight gap in its pages. Dropping his staff and letting it fall back onto his shoulder, he carefully slid his finger along the crease.

The book flopped open, a folded-up piece of parchment marking a chapter near the back. Taking the parchment out, Jack looked to the chapter heading, the sight of his own name in print becoming strangely normal to him.

 _Jack Frost and the Colors of Autumn_

Jack grinned. Most of the children's narratives were embellishments of his life at best, but he still appreciated the attention.

Especially if it had led _Elsa_ to him.

Placing the book on the bed, Jack looked to the parchment in his opposite hand. It had been folded three times, and the folds were soft, as if they'd been bent over and over again. Lifting the front flap, the Youngest Guardian's gaze fell onto what be immediately recognized to be the writing of a child.

.

 _Dear Santa,_

 _My name is Elsa and I'm a princess. I'm 6 years old._

.

Jack's breath caught. Six years old.

His heart leapt, and he eagerly unfolded the letter, grinning excitedly as he tucked his staff under his arm. Six-year-olds were the _best._

As his eyes fell onto the child's writing, his smile faded.

.

 _I don't know if I've been nice enough this year to get presents. I struck Anna with my powers, and I got in trouble. I didn't mean to. It was an accident. I love Anna. If that makes me naughty this year, I understand._

 _._

Feeling the color draining from his face, Jack gingerly leaned his staff up against the nightstand, gingerly sitting down on the edge of the bed and continuing to read.

.

 _I try to control them. But I can't. My mama and papa want me to. They've even fired a lot of the servants to help me keep it a secret. I know that my papa's going to protect me and keep me hidden from everyone until I learn. My papa is really nice. I don't want to make him sad._

 _So, I don't know if I've been nice enough this year. But just in case, I want you to know that I don't need any presents. I just want to ask you a question._

.

Jack froze, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes fell onto the last sentence.

.

 _Am I a monster?_

.

The Youngest Guardian could practically feel his heart stop beating.

The word hit him like a punch in the stomach. A cold wave of nausea sweeping over his body, Jack closed his eyes, struggling to keep his breathing even as he sank down against the bed. He'd _known_ that Elsa had a horrible childhood, but it was _one_ thing to hear her SAY that she'd struck Anna when she was six. It was _one_ thing for him to _know_ that Elsa, as a child and adolescent, thought she was a monster.

But it was quite _another_ —for the 319-year-old Guardian of Children—to read the word written in the _handwriting of a little girl._

Getting onto his feet, Jack Frost pushed himself off from the bed, his hands trembling as he fought to swallow his fury. As he shakily folded up the letter to replace it in the book—looking back on its worn, well-read pages—he suddenly noticed another set of handwriting on the backside of the parchment that he hadn't previously seen.

Turning the letter over, Jack's eyes widened.

.

 _For Princess Elsa,_

 _Whose ice powers do NOT make her a monster._

 _~Santa Claus_


	56. Northward

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: WHOOOOO'S ready for another elaborate Guardian backstory? (OOO! ME! Me-me-me-me-MEEEEE!) ;) Seriously, though, North is my favorite ROTG character, so I'm pretty excited to share this one!**

 **FRIENDLY REMINDER:** **The ROTG character backstories found in this fanfic are inspired by the 2012 Dreamworks movie "Rise of the Guardians," NOT the "Guardians of Childhood" book series written by William Joyce** **. This is another way of saying that (while I've worked really hard, trying to make them fit!) the backstories here are all ORIGINAL THINGS THAT I'VE MADE UP, and are** ** _not_** **technically canon. I post this** ** _friendly reminder_** **of that fact because a few people got confused with my version of Sandy's backstory from earlier (according to the canon BOOK version, Sandy comes from outer space. According to the MOVIE, however, his backstory is never brought UP, so I got to make my own fanfiction version). ;) Thanks for reading, thanks for all of those who have left such kind and encouraging reviews, and I hope you all have a fantabulous day! :)**

 **CONTENT WARNING: The next couple chapters might get a little dark, but then there'll be a very light chapter immediately following. Just stick with me, guys. I swear that Jelsa's going to happen eventually! ;)**

 **.**

 **.**

 **56: NORTHWARD**

 _._

 ** _BANG!_**

"AW- _JEE_ -WEAHH!"

"Sorry, Phil," Jack snapped, lighting down onto the carpet and stomping forward as the yeti leapt to close the doors, "I'm looking for a certain rotund, red-faced hypocrite. Seen him?"

"Dah—"

"— _WHERE'S THE FAT ONE?!"_

Before the yeti could respond, Jack Frost had already leapt into the air again, sweeping into the Workshop and dropping down onto the rail of the closest balcony.

" _COME OUT, COME OUT,_ KRIS KRINGLE!" Jack yelled furiously, " _JOLLY OLD ELF_ HAS GOT SOME JOLLY OLD _EXPLAINING_ TO DO!"

He leapt from the balcony, flying down past the bottom of the globe to the next level in a flurry of snowflakes. As he touched down, the yetis grunting in shock and leaping out of his way, the Spirit of Winter caught sight of him, standing at the end of the manufacturing line with a clipboard.

Jack's blood boiled.

"Jack Frost?" North turned away from the yetis, his bushy eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the gangly, familiar figure that was suddenly standing before him, gripping his shepherd's crook with white knuckles. "You were in Arendelle! What brings you to the Pole?"

"Yeah, I've got a bone to pick with you," Jack snarled.

"What is the matter, Jack?"

As the yetis backed away, letting the white-haired boy step forward, there was a sharp _creak._ North looked down to realize that the carpet had frozen beneath the Spirit of Winter's feet, a sparkle of snowflakes materializing out of the air around him as the boy then suddenly plunged his free hand into his front pocket, pulling out a folded piece of parchment.

Holding up the letter, Jack Frost said nothing, ferociously glaring up into the Guardian of Wonder's eyes.

North's smile faded. Then, his face grave, he nodded solemnly.

"Walk with me," North whispered.

.

.

 _You can't be serious,_ they'd told him.

But he was.

 _It can't be true,_ they'd said.

Yet, all of the data suggested a correlation.

 _But no one's ever done this,_ they'd insisted.

To all of the doubters, to his financers and colleagues, and to everyone at the university that tried to convince him not to leave, the old professor always posed the same philosophical question:

 _What is the fastest way to disprove a hypothesis?_

 _Well_ , they would admit. To provide a counterexample, of course.

 _And that is what I intend to do,_ he would calmly respond.

In one final, desperate attempt, the committee reminded the brilliant astronomer of the almost certain result of his endeavor:

 _But you'll die._

To this, the jolly professor would give a hearty, booming laugh, glaring down the end of his nose and chuckling his same old phrase, the gentle condemnation that had become something of his personal motto. Oh, my dear friends, he would say.

 _Where's your sense of wonder?_

After years of pleading, unable to properly secure funding, Professor Claus—or, by the nickname he'd earned from his rantings about the lights; Professor _North—_ finally set off on his own, followed by an impressively large band of loyal students (including an entire class of adoring undergraduates), to figure it out once and for all, determined to follow his compass northward until he could no longer do so.

Loading up the professor's sleigh with scientific instruments and supplies, the enormous group was soon bidding their loved ones farewell, leaving the school in a mass expedition to the North Pole from across the Russian landscape. And so, they set off, following their compasses forever northward, excited and determined and filled to the brim with dreams of becoming the famous adventurers and scientists that would discover the _true_ source of the Northern Lights.

The university never heard from them again.

But the jolly professor and his students were far from forgotten. Deeply mourning the loss of their brilliant colleague, and missing his humorous rantings about what he referred to as "naughty" data, the scientific community would always remember the contributions of the beloved Professor Claus, and his eventually fatal fascination with the study of the Northern Lights.

Not that he, nor his students, would have minded meeting such an end. After all—as Nicholas believed—losing one's life in the pursuit of knowledge was not suicide, but martyrdom.

And the Man in the Moon agreed.

But, as his loyal students had sacrificed themselves as well, the future Guardian of Wonder could not be expected to work alone. At such an extreme location, Professor Claus's graduate students grew in stature and acquired thick fur to better withstand the work (including Phil, his most recent PhD candidate-turned-post-doc who had decided to join the expedition anyway), while the hoard of undergrads shrank, and thus become easier to manage.

The bells were Phil's idea.

With the Man in the Moon's assistance, the partially-finished observatory was soon transformed into an enormous workshop, carved from the icy cliff (with more than a few subtle grids and compasses placed throughout its design) and surrounded by a number of huts that served as housing for its dozens of workers. Before long, the jolly old professor and his students had gotten back to work, this time aided by immortality, increased physical strength, and, of course, Nicholas's newfound power to manipulate localized magnetic fields for the sake of his various flying machines—which would eventually include the former adventurer's enormous sleigh.

Given his professional background at the boys' college, it was hardly a surprise to the other Guardians when the old professor took their newest recruit under his wing. However, despite the fact that Jack Frost was a three-hundred-and-nineteen-year-old snow sprite who was _apparently_ a fierce enough warrior to take down Pitch, and despite the fact that he was now every BIT as much of a Guardian as his mentor was, the unfortunate truth of the matter was that Jack was still something less than a complete equal, in the Guardian of Wonder's eyes.

In all likelihood, North's lingering sense of fatherly condescension towards his new trainee had less to do with the Spirit of Winter's actual _abilities_ than it had to do with the fact that Jack Frost's youthful appearance and stunted emotional development (which had most likely stemmed from three-centuries' lack of opportunity for social growth) reminded him of his former students. And thus—reverting to his old, academic script—the old professor had soon enthusiastically launched into a regimen of dragging the Youngest Guardian into his office for lectures, using object lessons and anecdotes to instruct his new student in the ways of the Guardians, and duty, and honor, and whatever other heroic and philosophical terms he could come up with at the given time. The Spirit of Winter would usually put up with this for about forty-five minutes or so, after which point the machines and gadgets around the workshop would start mysteriously, and literally, freezing up. At this point, North would usually take the hint, and the Guardian of Fun would be released.

But this particular meeting between the Guardian of Fun and the Guardian of Wonder was anything but typical.

"You. _Knew_ ," Jack Frost snarled. He stomped forward into North's office, furiously shaking the letter in the air. "YOU. _KNEW._ And you _didn't_ tell me!"

Walking in front of him as the door slammed shut, North didn't turn around, rounding the corner of his enormous workbench and reaching for his chair. He pulled it out.

" _Six years old,"_ Jack sputtered. "She was SIX YEARS OLD, and _you_ send her—a _BOOK?!"_

North didn't respond, turning around and sitting in the chair. After a few moments, he looked back up across the enormous workbench to realize that the usually pleasant, white-haired Spirit of Winter was standing now rigidly before him, gripping his glowing shepherd's crook in one hand and the letter in the other and glaring him down with what could only be described as a murderous rage.

His breath caught.

"Jack," he stammered, "I—"

 _"—_ _YOU_ _ **SHOULD'VE SENT ME!"**_

Nicholas fell silent, staring at the boy in shock. His teeth clenched together, Jack Frost was visibly struggling to contain his anger, his chest rising up and down with his breathing as he lifted the letter into the air once again, glaring ferociously into the Guardian of Wonder's eyes.

"You—you _should have,"_ Jack gritted, weakly shaking it, " _Sent. ME."_

His hand trembling, the Youngest Guardian reached forward and dropped the princess's letter onto the workbench. He then stepped back, dropping his head forward as a faint sparkling began to materialize out of the air around his body.

As Jack determinately stared at his feet—either oblivious to the snowflakes silently falling around him, or pretending not to notice that they were there—North drew in his breath.

"Jack… I'm _sorry_ ," he whispered. "There was nothing I could do. How would you have expected me to _send_ you, without—"

 _"—_ Oh, _I dunno!"_ Jack sputtered, snapping his head up, "Maybe, like, _hey! Jack Frost!_ You've been slowly going insane for about two hundred and eighty-five years or so, and you have no purpose or real friends or anything, but I've noticed that you spend _ALL_ of your time hanging out with kids, and by the way, there's a six-year-old girl in Arendelle who is being _LOCKED UP BY HER PARENTS BECAUSE SHE HAS ICE POWERS?!"_ Jack shrieked, his eyes blurring with tears, "YOU _NEVER THOUGHT_ , IT NEVER, _ONCE,_ OCCURRED TO YOU _,_ THAT _THAT_ WOULD BE SOMETHING WORTH **_TELLING ME?!"_**

 ** _WHAM!_**

Jack slammed his hands down onto North's workbench, uncontrolled, jagged shots of ice exploding over its wooden surface.

In silence, the two looked down to the desk.

Seeing what he had done—a few delicate spirals of frost still flowering out from under his fingertips over the messy blast of ice—Jack Frost's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Swallowing hard, he then carefully lifted his hands off of the workbench, sheepishly stepping back and adjusting his grip on the staff.

"I just—I could have _helped_ ," Jack choked, his eyes watery as he stared at the floor. "She was _completely alone_ , North. For YEARS. And I just—! I just wish I could have— _done_ something."

" _Done_ something? _Jack!_ You have _become_ a _Guardian,"_ North reassured him, looking up from the jagged ice-blast. "You are there for her _now."_

"Yeah, well, I wasn't there _then."_

North watched as the Guardian of Fun let out his breath, staring determinately at the ground in an ill-fated effort to conceal his emotions. In the silence, the flurries of snow began to shimmer into existence around him once again.

Nicholas's heart sank.

"Jack… you _know_ the rules," he said softly, leaning forward across his desk. "When it comes to a matter that would separate a child from its parents, _we are not to interfere."_

Jack stuck his free hand into his front pocket, tossing the shepherd's crook to himself as he turned away.

"Rules can have _exceptions_ ," he muttered.

"Then _what_ is the _point_ of the policy?"

"A policy _you made!"_

"In an effort to protect the most children from—"

"— _PROTECTING CHILDREN?"_ Jack sputtered, his eyes bulging as he whipped around again, " _You've GOTTA be KIDDING me!"_

"It—"

"ELSA— _was a child!"_ Jack shrieked, bursting out again as he leapt forward, "What, was she some sort of _EXCEPTION?_ Did your stupid ' _POLICY'_ protect _HER!?"_

 _"If you are asking me if I'm sorry for my decision, then YES!"_ North boomed, slamming his fist on the desk, " _I AM!"_

Jack fell silent, setting his jaw again as his eyes watered.

"Jack—I didn't realize the situation was going to get so _bad_ ," North started again, dropping his voice to a whisper. "I was—simply trying to do what was _best._ For the _child."_

"Yeah, and some _fine_ job you did, making that decision on your own."

The Guardian of Wonder's eyes narrowed. Pulling in his breath, he placed his hands flat on the desk, pushing himself onto his feet.

"Then _what would you have had me do_ , Jack?" he said icily, glaring as he leaned across the workbench. "Just _send you_ to her, correct? Have the little girl _thrown into the asylums,_ when she starts talking of an invisible man that comes to visit her? Drive a rift between the child and her parents? Give her ANOTHER life-altering secret to keep? Is that REALLY what would have been best, for a six-year-old girl?"

"Well, we'll never know NOW," Jack snarled. " _Will_ we?"

North pressed his lips together, his jaw tense. Saying nothing, he lowered himself back into his chair.

A long, hard silence fell over the office as they glared at each other from across the enormous workbench.

All of a sudden, Jack let out a bitter laugh. He tossed his staff into his opposite hand. "I'll tell you what I _do_ know, though," he scoffed, gesturing with the shepherd's crook. "I _know_ she's damaged. She's _way_ damaged, North—from all that. I see it all the time. The sadness. It's always there, in her eyes. And all of that— _fear,_ and—and being _alone—_!"

His voice trailed off. After a few moments, North saw Jack clench his teeth together, pulling in his breath.

"With that kind of a situation, and how _you_ left her—like _that,"_ Jack hissed, giving his head a shake and glaring into North's eyes. "I'll tell you one thing. And that's that it's a _miracle_ that Pitch Black never found her."

North visibly winced at the comment.

After a few moments, the Guardian of Wonder shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing down and to the left. Shaking his head, North then pulled in a deep breath.

He looked up into Jack's eyes.

"And you would be _comfortable_ … harboring your current feelings for her," Nicholas stated emotionlessly, "If you'd known Elsa when she was six?"

" _YES!"_

North raised a skeptical eyebrow.

The Spirit of Winter opened his mouth again to speak, but then shut it, his cheeks flushing pink as he realized what he had just said. Suddenly uncomfortable, Jack swallowed hard, taking his staff on both hands and looking down to his feet.

"No?" he squeaked.

North didn't respond, interlacing his fingers and staring at the Youngest Guardian from across his desk.

"Well—maybe. I think so. I—!" Jack stammered helplessly, "I don't—look, I _don't_ _know,_ okay?"

North watched as the Spirit of Winter bit his lip, scoffing to himself and giving his head a quick shake.

"Jack… you were _lonely_ ," North sighed. "Is nothing to be ashamed of. I only bring up Elsa because—well, it might _not_ have been to your best interest, to have known her as a child."

"This is not about me."

"Do you deny it?"

Jack Frost fell quiet. Gripping his shepherd's crook with both hands, he leaned forward into it, pressing his forehead against its length and staring at his feet.

"Elsa and I are _friends,"_ he choked.

"You certainly aren't acting like you want it to stay that way."

Still pressing his forehead against the staff, Jack didn't respond for a few moments. Squeezing his eyes shut—and then opening them again—he drew in a long, pained breath.

"Well, it—it makes _sense,"_ he choked. "I mean— _doesn't_ it?"

"What do you mean?"

The flurries began to materialize out of the air again.

Without saying a word, Nicholas pushed his chair back away from the enormous workbench, getting onto his feet and walking around the desk. As he came up to where Jack was standing, sparking snowflakes dotting the air around them, the Spirit of Winter suddenly sucked in his breath.

 _"_ _She's a girl, I'm a guy, we both have ice powers_ , AND she can _SEE ME,"_ Jack blurted suddenly. " _What's the downside!?_ I just—I—I have no idea what's holding her _back!"_

Nicholas's bushy eyebrows lifted again. Restraining from a smile, he stepped forward, placing his hand on Jack's shoulder.

"It has been _very_ long three hundred years," North whispered. "Hasn't it?"

Jack scoffed, leaping back and pushing the hand off his shoulder. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Women are more complicated than that, Jack Frost."

" _I know!_ It's just—I have tried—EVERYTHING—and— _aurgh._ It's— _look_ ," Jack choked, squeezing his eyes shut again. "If I'm doing something _wrong_ , I wish she'd just—tell me what it _is."_

"If you are, she will," North chuckled. "But, is not always your fault. Sometimes, things just don't work. Last spring with Tooth, when—"

 _"—_ _Really!?"_

The Guardian of Wonder took a step back. Jack Frost was staring at him in betrayal, his cheeks flushing again with embarrassment.

"You're— _really—_ going to bring that up," Jack breathed.

North shrugged. "None of us thought you were particularly well-matched."

"So, _yes_ ," Jack mumbled. "Great. Thanks, North."

"Jack, it is _alright! Anyone_ would be desperate after that long," he continued good-naturedly. " _Especially_ young man like you. We understand."

" _Aaaaurgh,"_ Jack groaned, kneading his eyebrows. "North. _Why."_

"Because you like women so much, Jack."

"That's not what I—"

"—Sometimes, things just do not work out," he continued, not noticing that the Youngest Guardian was blushing even harder, rolling his eyes and turning away. "It was nothing against you, or Toothiana. Nothing either of you _did."_

Jack didn't respond, staring determinately at the carpet with his lips pressed together. North's eyes widened.

"Unless," he said quietly, "Unless—unless there's something you haven't _told_ us, Jack."

"What? _No!"_ Jack blurted, snapping his head up, "No, no, no, Tooth is—Tooth is great and all, but—it—I just, with—"

He stopped talking, his voice trailing off. Stretching out his fingers on the shepherd's crook, and then curling them around it again, North watched as the Spirit of Winter pushed the gnarled staff against his forehead.

Jack pulled in his breath.

 _"_ _Feathers,"_ he choked.

North raised his eyebrows.

"Feathers?" he repeated.

"Yeah! _Feathers!_ I mean, if—talking about Tooth, and—well. The thing with Elsa _,"_ Jack stammered, "Elsa has— _skin_ —and I—uh, I prefer skin to—wait, why are we talking about this? We are not talking about this."

Scoffing in frustration, Jack shook his head vigorously, leaping to the North's workbench. He snatched up the princess's letter.

"I came because of _this,"_ Jack snapped, holding up the letter. "And nothing more. _Okay?_ And you know what? You _still_ haven't given me a legitimate reason, to justify what you did."

Nicholas took a step away, looking down. Without responding, he then turned around and walked back to his desk, rounding the end of the enormous workbench and reaching for his chair.

North sighed as he pulled it out and sat down.

"Jack… making these decisions… the _hard_ decisions," he started, regally drawing himself up, "Is part of being a Guardian. The pros and cons of all options must be carefully weighed, if the responsible choice for the child's _best interest_ is—"

"—OH, no. _NO!"_ Jack interrupted, whipping around again, "You—do NOT—get to _lecture me!"_

North abruptly stopped talking. His eyes wide, he looked at the Youngest Guardian in disbelief.

 _"_ _What?"_ he breathed.

"All your BIG SPEECHES about duty, and honor, and the _responsibilities of a Guardian,_ and WHAT'S it all for?" Jack yelled, his eyes watering with anger again. _"Nothing!"_

 _"_ _Jack—"_

"— _She_ was a _little girl_ who was being _locked up._ And, how'd she respond? She _wrote to you!"_ Jack interrupted, "She had no friends, she was scared— _SCARED,_ North!—of talking to her parents, and from her _childhood bedroom,_ from the _lowest pit of fear and despair,_ you know what she did? She _wrote to Santa Claus._ She _believed_ in you. She— _TRUSTED—_ you," Jack stammered, his eyes going watery, "And _look at what happened!_ _You_ had the _chance_ to make a difference! To do something really significant, or, I dunno, maybe not to even actually DO anything, but to _send somebody that COULD!"_

"Jack, I—"

"And then—just in case there was some glimmer of hope, a _shred_ of a possibility that Elsa might _not_ be psychologically scarred for the rest of her life, _YOU_ did _THAT!"_ Jack sputtered, "Not only did you _NOT_ send ME, give _me_ a chance to help her, but you left her with even more reason to stay _alone!"_

North set his jaw. "I was fostering her _sense of wonder!"_

"No, you were _encouraging_ her _isolation!"_ Jack gritted, "There's a _difference!_ Books are great, okay? I get it. People _need_ books. But you know what _ELSE_ people NEED, North?" he yelled. " _Other—PEOPLE!"_

Throwing his staff down in gesture, he turned away, his back shaking as he struggled to calm down.

"Jack… I thought it would give her some hope," Nicholas said. "I never imagined it would become an obsession."

"Yeah, well, you thought wrong _._ "

Jack didn't turn around. Letting out his breath, North shook his head.

"I'm sorry that I might have contributed to Elsa's suffering," he whispered. "But we cannot change the past, Jack Frost. I'm sorry she had to experience so much darkness."

" _Don't_ apologize to _me_ ," Jack said coldly. "Apologize to the _six-year-old girl_ that _you_ left without a Guardian."

North's breath caught.

The words had hit him like a punch in the stomach. As the Spirit of Winter clenched his teeth together—reaching forward and snatching the princess's letter back up off of the desk—North placed his hands on the desk, pushing himself up onto his feet.

"Because I didn't get _you_ involved— _I_ wasn't being a Guardian?" he enunciated, getting onto his feet. "Choose your next words _carefully,_ Jack Frost."

"I could have helped."

 _"_ _Really!"_ North's eyes narrowed again. "You _really think_ I was going to send in some—random— _teenage boy,_ to try and fix everything?" he scoffed, gesturing to Jack with disdain, " _How was I to know_ you could be TRUSTED _,_ with such a delicate situation? With—with _her?"_

Jack Frost's mouth fell open.

"Okay—uh, FIRST of all," he stammered, " _NOT_ a teenager. And, secondly— _EXCUSE me!?_ I would _never_ have done ANYTHING that—"

"— _ALL I KNEW_ about you, _Jack Frost_ ," North said sternly, "Was that you had ice powers, and a _centuries-long run_ on the Naughty List."

"Wait. You—you're saying—you—!"

Jack's voice trailed off. After a few moments—his eyes widening—he froze.

"You _didn't believe in me,"_ he breathed.

Nicholas didn't respond. After a few moments, Jack Frost stumbled a step back, looking to him in horror.

"You—you _didn't BELIEVE in me?"_ he squeaked again, his eyes welling up with tears. " _North_ —why—why wouldn't—"

"—I didn't _know_ you, Jack Frost."

Seeing the Spirit of Winter's sudden self-realization, North's eyes softened. He let out his breath.

"And, besides," Nicholas added. "I could not tell you anyway. Not without breaking The Oath of Confidentiality."

"So, another— _policy,"_ Jack sneered, rolling his eyes _. "Great."_

North raised his eyebrows. "A policy that allows _millions of children_ to trust me. It would be _worth your time_ to develop similar one."

Jack glared. "Let's agree to disagree."

"The _OATH of Confidentiality,"_ North boomed, drawing himself up and ignoring the comment, "Is less a _rule_ than it is _promise._ It is Oath that allows children to _write_ to me, make requests from _lap_ , with FULL confidence that I—will— _never—_ reveal their secrets."

Jack scoffed. "Fair enough. What's that got to do with Elsa?"

"If request from a child involves _another person_ , I cannot fulfill it unless _both_ parties _independently_ request same thing," he explained. "To fulfill it _without_ both requests would require me to reveal contents of the first party's letter to the second party, without first party's consent. And that would violate the Oath. That's why I _didn't_ send you before, but that I _could,_ for THIS Christmas. Your request to meet her was indirect, but it still _counted_."

"Wait a minute," Jack choked. "So— _now_ you could, because—are you saying that the main real _reason_ that you didn't tell me about Elsa was— _?"_

North nodded solemnly. "For the same reason that I never took you around the Workshop, before you were chosen to be a Guardian."

Jack's mouth fell open. As the Youngest Guardian's wide blue eyes welled up with tears once again, his face draining of color at the horrible realization, Nicholas pulled in his breath.

"You _never asked,"_ he whispered.


	57. The Last Letter

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Okay, I absolutely HAVE to publicly respond to Guest Reviewer Guest986, regarding how I keep this fanfiction pretty much a total secret. Truth be told, it is no longer COMPLETELY under wraps. Like, a handful of people know I do fanfiction in _general_ (it's choose-your-own-prompt writing practice—how awesome is THAT?!) because I've recommended it, but I still don't want anyone knowing about what _fandom_ I'm in, or anything. That being said, a couple friends have found out anyway by accident. It's actually a kind of a funny story, and I'd love to share it, but it would be a VERY long Author's Note (I know, even MORE than usual). Would anybody like me to post that, in front of the next chapter? Please let me know in the reviews. **

**At the same time, I am overWHELMINGLY thankful for you guys. (I just wrote a super-long and emotional Author's Note that I'm NOT posting here, because I don't want to make anybody read that.)** **I _know_ that I say it all the time, but I don't think I can stress it enough: I am so, SO grateful for you guys. In a nutshell, YOU ARE WHY I KEEP DOING THIS. YOU ARE WHY I CAN JUSTIFY HOW MUCH TIME IT TAKES, TO BE WORKING ON A BOOK I CAN NEVER SELL, just because _I love the characters,_ and because I—want to. And because it's helping me work through my various issues, to write this. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, for being here, being interested, and helping me justify my secret hobby!**

 **I love you all, thanks for reading, and I hope you have a fantabulous day! :) :) :) ~NopeNotTelling**

 **To Guest Reviewer "Guest" (who is in AP Physics and Chem):** _First off, way to go with those classes—and let me know if you ever need help with Physics or Math!_ _Secondly, regarding the fact that you apparently write ROTG fanfiction, but are too scared to post it: oh my gosh. Do it. Post. It's totally fun, and amazing, and the people on this website (for the most part!) are AWESOME. It's also a great way to practice writing, gauge audience reactions, build up your confidence, make friends, and potentially even have a real impact. So, about posting your stuff (CHANT IT WITH ME, EVERYBODY!): Doooo it, dooo it, dooo it, dooo it…! 8-D_

 **To Guest Reviewers "author unknown," "me," "dark angel," and "3Anonymous3":** _(*gross sobbing*)_ OH MY GOSH I LOVE YOU TOOOOOOOOOOO! 8..) _(*grosser sobbing*) YOU ARE ADORABLE AND I WANT TO HUG YOU THROUGH THE SCREEN._ *Hugs guest reviewers through the screen*

 **CONTENT WARNING:** **This chapter has some angst in it (sorry!), but the next one is super light and Jelsa-y, so please stick with me and hold out for that. (Yes. I just used _"Jelsa-y"_ as an adjective. Deal with it.) ;)**

 **.**

 **.**

 **57: THE LAST LETTER**

 _"_ _Mrs. Braaten!"_

The schoolteacher jumped, stumbling back a step in surprise as Princess Anna ran up to her, throwing her arms around her in a warm and slightly suffocating embrace. As she broke away from the hug, the schoolteacher let out a nervous laugh.

"Thank you _so_ much for coming again, your highnesses," she said gratefully. "The children _do_ love seeing you! And, the stories."

"It's wonderful to be back," Elsa replied. "How is your son doing? Is he recovering from his illness?"

To this, the schoolteacher's eyes widened, amazed that the Queen of Arendelle would remember such an obscure detail.

"Oh—yes, he—he is," she exclaimed. "Thank you for asking, your majesty. And—um, and remembering!"

"I'm glad he's feeling better."

The schoolteacher nodded, turning to the girl in the closest desk. "Helena, would you please take Princess Anna's cloak and hang it up by the stove?"

The girl jumped up to do so, running over to them as Anna shrugged out of her cloak, handing it to the girl. Elsa, of course, didn't have a cloak, and the schoolteacher was beginning to turn around to say something more just as she suddenly caught glance of Anna's enormously pregnant stomach.

The schoolteacher jolted.

 _"_ Oh, my _goodness!"_ she gasped, _"Your MAJESTY!_ How— _!?"_

Elsa restrained from a laugh at the schoolteacher's bulging eyes, and Anna rocked back onto her heels, patting her stomach.

"I'm four months along," she giggled, "Well—almost five, I think. We got married in the end of July."

"A lot of women aren't even _showing_ by then!"

"Yes, but apparently, this kiddo is determined to _make_ me 'a lot of woman,' _so_ …"

To this, Elsa finally broke, bursting out laughing as the schoolteacher's face flushed. Anna beamed, and the schoolteacher embarrassedly drew in her breath.

"Please forgive my rudeness, Princess Anna," she apologized, "I—I suppose I wasn't expecting—it's been over three months since you and the queen last saw us."

Anna giggled. "You're _fine!"_

"Has it really been three months, already?" Elsa asked. "Goodness! I'm glad we're back then."

Anna nodded. "With an EXCITING ANNOUNCEMENT!" she bubbled, suddenly spinning around and looking to the rest of the schoolhouse. "Queen Elsa and I are really, really, REALLY excited to invite _all_ of you to the Children's Party in the castle on Christmas Day!"

A collective wave of gasps and squeals of excitement rolled through the schoolhouse, and Elsa's heart leapt. They all looked so happy.

 _Anna_ looked so happy.

"Settle down! Settle _down,_ everyone!" the schoolteacher scolded, turning to the class. "If you don't let their majesties _speak,_ you won't be able to hear the _stories!"_

To this, the children fell quiet, a few last whispers and giggled comments resounding through the classroom. Seeing that all the students were in their desks, the schoolteacher nodded curtly.

"Princess Anna—with your—um, with your condition," she said kindly, "We've reserved the big chair for you. Is that alright?"

Anna nodded, grinning and starting to lurch towards it in the front corner of the room. "Sounds great to me!"

"Askel and Nils," the schoolteacher directed, turning to a pair of tween-age boys as Elsa followed her sister to the front, "We have another chair in the back room. Would you please go and get it for Queen—"

"—Oh, there's no need for that," Elsa laughed softly.

The boys stopped, turning back to face her as Elsa gracefully stepped forward, sweeping her hand in a circle before her in the air. An elegant, crystalline chair swirled into existence from beneath her fingers, inspiring another round of gasps and squeals of delight as Elsa whisked her capelet forward, gracefully sitting down as the carriage driver brought her bag to her.

She thanked him and took it, reaching inside and pulling out a storybook. As Elsa opened it, pulling back the colorful color, she could feel the children's eyes on her, the excitement and energy in their collective gaze practically radiating from their eager faces.

A sudden, unexpected wave of bittersweet regret washing over her, Elsa felt her heart sink. If only Jack were here. He would _love_ these children. Their enthusiasm, and their innocence. If Jack were here, he'd be having the time of his _life,_ just laughing with them, and playing with them, and— _!_

And it hit her.

Elsa froze, her breath catching at the realization. Hearing Anna's voice in her mind, their earlier conversation from the carriage was suddenly echoing through her memory:

 _"_ _Well… he said he'd come to the Christmas Eve Ball,"_ Anna had giggled, _"So, it'd be kind of weird for him to just fly away after it finished. Which means that YOU need to be thinking about what you're going to give him for Christmas."_

All of a sudden, Elsa knew _exactly_ what she was going to do.

A hint of a smile tugging at the edge of her lips, Elsa pulled in her breath, silently closing the storybook. As she looked up to the children seated all before her in the classroom, their teacher took a hesitant step forward.

"Um… your majesty?" she whispered. "Are you alright?"

 _"_ _Oh!_ Yes! It's just— _!"_ Elsa let out a nervous laugh, giving her head a quick shake. "I was—I was actually thinking that I might tell a little story of my own today."

"By all means," the schoolteacher replied, looking a little confused. "Tell whatever story you like."

To this, Elsa's heart leapt. Her cheeks flushing, she pulled in her breath, shifting on her hips and trying to keep herself from bursting into giggles with excitement.

Looking forward to the children with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she leaned forward in her icy chair as if she were about to tell a secret.

"Now, tell me. Have _any of you heard_ —of the _Legend,"_ Elsa started dramatically, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Of _Jack Frost?"_

 _._

 _._

After eight hundred and fifty-four years of being a Guardian, Professor Nicholas Ivan Claus had his fair share of secrets. Many of these were secrets that were hidden in his files, buried deep underground, containing the literally millions of letters written to him from children all over the world. In so many centuries, the old professor had never discarded a single one. After all, doing so was against his personal policy—and Nicholas honored his own rules without exceptions, just like he had with Princess Elsa and the Oath of Confidentiality.

But times could change.

"Ee, _jaw_ -wah, eh?"

His head student, Phil, held out a clipboard, raising his furry eyebrows.

North shook his head. "Not now."

The yeti bowed his head, stepping back as the Guardian of Wonder walked past, pulling open the enclosure to the Workshop's main elevator. As it shut behind him, he crossed his enormous arms over his chest, staring at the ground.

He had done what he could, for the princess. At least—that's what he had _thought._ But now, Nicholas was suddenly questioning himself, his mostly-comfortable and long-since drawn conclusions about the matter shaken into a jumble once again.

North wasn't entirely sure what it was, exactly, about the Guardian of Fun's unexpected confrontation that still had him so shaken. Perhaps it was the way that Jack had blasted into the Workshop, practically crying in fury and clearly on the brink of a complete emotional breakdown. Perhaps it was having to face the fact that he _could_ have handled the princess's situation differently—or that he perhaps hadn't even really handled it well, at _all._

More than likely, it was the jarring realization that Jack Frost was far more of a true Guardian than North had been giving him credit for.

 _CLUNK!_

Reaching the ground level, the elevator thudded to a stop, jolting North back into the present. Giving his head a quick shake, he uncrossed his arms, stepping forward and pushing open the wooden enclosure's gate.

Turning in the opposite direction than he would usually go in on this level (leading to the reindeer stables and sleigh runway), he passed the packaging department for the Vault. Coming up to its door, the yeti stationed as its guard lifted his head. Seeing that it was his leader, he turned and reached up to the lantern beside the door, lifting it from its hook and holding it out.

"Wee-aw-jah?" he offered.

North nodded solemnly. "Thank you."

He took the lantern as the yeti turned around to the enormous crank-wheel of the outside of the Vault's door. Shaking out his furry hands, the yeti then reached forward and pulled in a deep breath.

He gripped the cast iron wheel, forcing it to the left with all his strength.

 _CCCCCcccccrrrr-ANK!_

North drew himself up as the enormous, thick door swung inwards, groaning on its ancient hinges and revealing the dark tunnel of filing cabinets beyond.

Holding the lantern aloft, North nodded. Stepping inside, he then paused, waiting for his eyes to adjust as the yeti slowly pulled the door shut behind him.

 _BOOM._

With the tumbling of the locks, the crank-wheel turning back into place, Nicholas knew that his student had now effectively sealed him inside. But—he was less worried than relieved. His protocols involving the opening and locking of the Vault were readily in place (to make sure that no accidents happened), and North—now locked inside the deep, dark heart of the mountain, with no company but that of the millions of letters from the world's children in the files—needed privacy.

Santa Claus and his mail bin required it.

Looking to the aisles of filing cabinets before him as his eyes finished adjusting to the darkness, North huffed, and started walking. The Vault itself was something magical—rather, it was enchanted in such a way that it could forever expand backwards, going deeper and deeper into the ice as new filing cabinets filled with the names of new children (organized by birthday) appeared at its front. Every time a new child was born, a new file would shimmer into existence, bearing their name. Queen Elsa, now twenty-one years old, would be only a few dozen feet back in the rows and rows of filing cabinets. When he'd gone searching for Jackson Overland's file in the previous spring, however, North had found it necessary to set aside twenty minutes each way for the long walk through 319 years' worth of files all the way back into the ever-expanding mountain.

Quite the opposite of Jack Frost, when the Guardian of Wonder was raised, he was given the gift of memory. It of course was nothing like _Toothiana's_ memory; hers was of course much more powerful and keen for emotions, and experiences related to human interaction, than his own. Not to mention, Tooth was responsible not only for her own memory, but for those of all those she protected. However, North's memory was still good enough that he could quite easily remember the names and desires of the world's children each Christmas, just like he had once been able to remember equations and diagrams.

Before long, his feet automatically turning at the corner of the cabinets, North was moving down an aisle from the mid 1820's. About fifteen feet in, reading the birthdays on the labels, he came to a stop. Ah, yes.

He knew this particular file drawer quite well.

North grasped the old handle, pulling it out. Setting the lantern down on top of the enormous filing cabinet as the drawer obediently rumbled forward on its tracks before him, the Guardian of Wonder then reached into its back, pushing away the files surrounding the group of letters and reaching for the tiny stack, held together with twine. When a child stopped believing, and their names would fade on The List (the names of _believing_ children would always appear in fresh ink, like they had just been written), and he would bundle their letters and shift them to the back of their respective drawers in long-term files. Elsa's letters were no exception, but for someone who had stopped believing so young, her bundle was still impressively thick.

After he'd sent her the book, the young princess had immediately written back to thank him, and within a few weeks, letters and letters brimming with questions about the Legend of Jack Frost began to appear in his office. North didn't usually receive that many letters in the first two months of the year, and answered the little girl's inquiries the best he could, for not being well acquainted with the Spirit of Winter (beyond receiving occasional reports from Phil about attempted break-ins, which North found more amusing than anything else—even though he had, in an effort to give Jack a fresh start, pretended not to know about them in the previous spring). North had even found the princess a few more books on the subject, but before the gifts could be delivered, their correspondence had abruptly stopped.

It was only when he'd received the last one that he'd realized their letters were being intercepted. And by then, it was too late.

Taking the little envelope out of its file, Nicholas stepped back and bumped the drawer. It shuddered as it rolled back down on its tracks, stopping at the back of the cabinet with a dull _thud_ as he turned away, trudging down to the far end of the aisle.

Directly across the aisles from the front of the Vault, the space opened into a sitting area with an enormous fireplace and a rich, thick carpet spread across the stone floor. While the Guardian of Wonder used his upstairs office for Toy Prototyping, it was nowhere near large enough (or, in his opinion, _secure_ enough) to serve as a place for him to go through his mail. This fireplace was situated directly underneath the fireplaces in the rest of the Workshop (the most notable one being that on the Control Station balcony), and was always lit. North had spent many hours sitting in the enormous, winged armchair before it each year, twice-checking The List by the light of its flame.

Holding the old envelope in his hands, North turned around in front of the fireplace, collapsing into the chair. He didn't actually need to open it, to know what this one said. But he did so anyway, making sure—as a last check—that it was the correct letter. The last letter.

The letter that a certain Guardian of Fun could never—under _any_ circumstances _—_ be allowed to see.

Closing his eyes, Nicholas drew in a long, painful breath. Opening them again, he then slipped his fingers into the envelope's top edge, grasping the old parchment and pulling it out.

Unfolding it as the foil-edged Arendelle Fleur in the top corner caught the glistening light from the fireplace, the little princess's writing was suddenly before him once again.

.

 _Dear Santa Claus,_

 _I miss getting your letters in my stocking drawer. I hope you're doing well. Thank you for sending me a friend! At first I thought he was Jack Frost, but that's okay. I'm sure Jack is busy like you._

 _Things are wonderful. It's nice not being so lonely. My new friend can be a little scary, but I know he loves me. He's even helping me conceal! I love—_

.

The Guardian of Wonder sucked in his breath, his teeth clenching together in pain as his eyes involuntarily fell over the three final sentences. It was bad enough, what had happened. But that the princess thought that HE had actually sent-!

 _No,_ North thought angrily. Shakily gripping the letter in one hand while placing the other on the armrest of the enormous chair, North pushed himself up onto his feet. If he had _realized_ that little Elsa still believed in Jack Frost, he would have CERTAINLY broken his policy, bringing in the mischievous snow sprite and telling him about the girl's situation. At the time, though, for her to keep believing in much of _anything_ was incredible—and that the Spirit of Winter would still be real to her, despite the circumstances, was every bit as unfathomable as it was heart-wrenching. _No one,_ in Nicholas's shoes, would have realized that a child's belief could be that strong.

At least—that was what North had tried to _reassure_ himself, for every night for the previous ten and a half years.

The fire crackled and burned as the old professor walked towards it, watching the dancing colors glinting off of his boots. North still couldn't believe that he'd let something so obvious escape his notice. After all—this was supposed to be his _strong_ suit. Protecting children by fostering their sense of wonder, that was. And, in Princess Elsa's case, there was even a _prophesy,_ to boot. The Rock Troll had specifically said that _fear_ would be her enemy.

It had never occurred to Nicholas that the statement had been meant so— _literally_.

 _"_ _All your BIG SPEECHES about duty, and honor, and the responsibilities of a Guardian, and WHAT'S it all for?"_ Jack Frost's voice was suddenly shrieking in his mind. " _NOTHING!"_

North pressed his lips together in pain, the hot, scalding guilt bubbling up inside him like lava as he stood in front of the fireplace, gripping the little princess's letter. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that he knew a way to drown out Jack's voice from his memory.

" _She BELIEVED in you,"_ it continued, nearly breaking with emotion. " _She—TRUSTED—you!"_

 _I tried!_ North thought desperately. _I did my best!_ _I did everything I could! There was nothing I could DO!_

He swallowed hard, his eyes watering as he gazed forward into the flames. Nicholas then looked back down to the letter, the physical proof of what had happened, and of how he had failed.

The evidence.

North started to lift up the letter, and then froze, looking down to it as his breaths started to come fast and shallow with fear. This wasn't just any piece of parchment—this was a _letter,_ to _Santa Claus,_ written by the _hand_ _of a_ _little girl_. And that made it sacred.

But it was also the was the written condemnation of his failure. And yet, he had to—wait. No. He couldn't—he couldn't _do_ this.

Was he really considering doing this?

North's heart started pounding, the cold, dark wave of panic sweeping slowly through his body as he frantically looked back and forth between the fire and the letter in his hand. Letting out his breath, he started to turn away from the hearth, just as the Youngest Guardian's voice hissed one more time in his mind:

 _"_ _The six-year-old girl YOU left without a Guardian."_

 _NO!_

The Guardian of Wonder whipped back around and threw the letter into the fire with fury, the stationary soaring into the flames. His hands trembling with anger, he then stepped back, resolutely crossing his enormous arms over his chest as he struggled to calm down.

He _WAS_ a Guardian. And a good one. And it was just a mistake—and _honest mistake_ , not doing more to protect the princess. He hadn't _left_ her; he'd just had—a lot of other children to watch over. Other responsibilities. And, he'd done everything he could. Everything he thought was necessary, of course. There was no _way_ he could have known…

Was there?

The shame bubbling up inside him, North pressed his lips together, holding his ground as he faced down the flames. He _should_ have known. If only he'd figured it out, if _only—!_

He would _never_ be forgiven, if anyone saw that letter. Jack Frost certainly couldn't see it. And now, he would _never_ see it.

No one ever would.

There was snap, and North looked back down. The fire spat again, dancing over the piece of parchment, the foiled stationary's edges already black as it began to melt and curl apart onto the logs.

A flash of panic suddenly shot through his body, his muscles contracting in horror. Realizing what he had done, North gasped and lunged forward, snatching up the poker from beside the enormous fireplace.

"No," he stammered, desperately prodding at the logs. " _No—!"_

As he tried to fish the letter back out, one of the smaller logs suddenly collapsed onto the flame, sending the fire roaring up before him in a burst of heat. Startling back in shock, Nicholas desperately threw the poker to the side, falling onto his knee and throwing his hand forward at the logs.

 _Sss!_

He gasped in pain, jerking his fingers back as the flames danced past his skin. The fire spat again, sending white-hot embers flying past the edge of the hearth. Shaking out his hand, Nicholas looked to the letter again to realize with horror that it was unfolding in the whirlwind of sparks, its edges curling open and beginning to burn just beyond his reach.

It was too late.

Slowly getting up onto his feet, Nicholas took a step back. His mind going numb as the edges of the little girl's letter began to blacken and crumble into ash, he stared into the crackling fire, feeling the cold, icy realization sinking in.

 _Too late._

His knees started to shake beneath him. Nicholas felt his lungs contract in horror, time seeming to crunch to a standstill as the dull thudding sound of his own heart pounding filled his ears.

 _What have I done?_ North thought.

The bottom edge of the parchment unfurling across the embers, the last two, inky lines of the princess's handwriting suddenly came into his view, standing out against the brilliant light of the fire, simultaneously taunting and condemning him as they were consumed by the flames.

 _"_ What have I _done,"_ North whimpered, his voice breaking in the silence. _"What—have I—done?"_

Sinking down onto his knees, the nine-hundred-and-three-year-old Guardian of Wonder buried his face in his hands, overcome with emotion as the last two lines of the princess's burning letter seared into his soul:

.

 _I love my new friend. I call him the Gray Man._

 _He says you're not real_


	58. Between Friends

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I take the time to write a decent note right now, this chapter will never be posted. It's also NOT perfectly drafted, so for that, I also apologize profusely. It's by FAR the longest chapter of Ice Alliance (8,000-ish words!), and I _could_ have chopped it, but I figured that everybody would prefer to have it all at once. So, here's to hoping that I'm right. Sorry for being so long-winded, but given the content of this chapter, I have a feeling that you'll come to forgive me. ;) I love you all, thank you SO much to all those wonderful people that have reviewed, thanks for reading and being interested, and I hope you all have a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS! :D :D :D**

 **REGARDING THE BACKSTORIES: Because there was some confusion in the last chapter... NO, North ABSOLUTELY did NOT "send" Pitch Black to Elsa! North sent reading material on Jack Frost, and-because she was looking for Jack, and therefore was believing a LOT-that was what unintentionally opened the pathway for Pitch to come into her life. I have the backstories all done, and I'm actually super-proud of them but (spoiler, sorry) we're not really going to get BACK to them until after Jack and Elsa are married. That being said, I can't wait... and I PROMISE you, you will NEVER watch ROTG in the same way again! ;)**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Innuendo, more sexual tension than usual. But don't worry, I put things to a stop before they go too far! ;)**

 **.**

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 **58: BETWEEN FRIENDS**

 _"_ _Ellllllsa…"_

"Mmm?"

Elsa groaned, her head spinning as she shifted on her arms, nuzzling her nose into the crook of her elbow again. After she and Anna had returned from the schools to find that Jack Frost was not yet back himself, she had tried to mask her disappointment the best that she could. After a quiet dinner with her sister, deciding that work was the best distraction, Elsa had retreated into her secret study to work on a new reform, and had eventually decided to rest her eyes. It was only going to be for a few minutes.

But her eyelids felt so heavy…

Whimpering slightly, she shifted on her arms again, burying her face into her sleeve. A moment later, something cold was gently jostling her shoulder.

"Elsa?" the voice tried again softly. "Snowflake? Come onnnn… you need to wake _upppp_ …"

Her eyes fluttering open, the colors and light around her started to slowly come back into focus. Realizing that—

"EEP!" Elsa startled.

 _THWACK!_

" _WHOA!"_

Jack Frost flung the end of his staff forward, blasting a sparkle of ice at the ink well as Elsa's flailing wrist sent it flying off her desk. It froze just before it crashed into the floor, and, her heart pounding, Elsa shook herself into focus as he walked forward to where it lay.

"I've been gone for— _what—twelve hours?"_ Jack Frost scoffed _,_ crouching down and picking up the frozen ink splatter, the solid puddle all coming off of the carpet in one piece. "And you're already back falling asleep on your _desk_ again? Sweet _Manny_ , Snowflake, have I taught you nothing at _all?"_

Elsa blushed, her heart leaping as he straightened back up and turned around with a flirty, teasing grin on the edge of his lips. He was _so_ handsome, when he smiled that way.

It was such a relief to see him again.

As Jack walked back to her and replaced the frozen ink well on the desk, Elsa let out a nervous laugh. She gave him a little shrug, pushing a stray hair out of her face and looking into his eyes.

"I lost track of time," she admitted.

"Uh… _huh."_

 _"_ _I did!"_

"Well, let's see what's been so _important_ to be worth turning the Snow Queen into a _little_ _stress ball_ again," Jack Frost enunciated, reaching forward and snatching the top paper out from in front of her.

"I— _!"_

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat. As his eyes fell over the writing, her face went pale.

"It's just some ideas," she stammered desperately, "Like—a brainstorm. I mean, well, it's not a _brainstorm,_ but I've gotten it up to a messy outline. Like, for a proposal, but it's nowhere _near_ ready yet."

She shifted anxiously in her seat, watching his expression. After a few more moments, Jack's eyebrows lifted.

"Wait," he realized, looking up from the paper. "This isn't about the child abuse thing. _Or_ the housing reform thing."

"It's about the literacy program."

"Literacy program?"

Elsa nodded, getting onto her feet. "While we were going around to the schools today," she explained, "I noticed that the books—well, the ones on loan to the schools from the Royal Library—the children aren't getting any new ones. It's been costing too much time and effort to get them back and forth to the castle, so the rotation has been stopped."

Jack's brow furrowed in thought. "It's costing too much to borrow new books?"

"Unless I do something about it, yes. So, I figured—why not just take an inventory of all the books we _do_ have, scrape together a budget from the old shipping costs, and then create a rotation that would go from village to village, instead?" Elsa took a tiny step forward, smoothing a few stray hairs back into her braid once again. "I mean, there's no real _reason_ to get those books back to the Royal Library each time, _especially_ when you consider the fact that the town school is in the rotation, and hardly goes to the main library anyway. And, the kingdom can certainly afford to donate a few _children's books,_ for the investment in the literacy program."

Jack's previously teasing smirk had faded into an expression of interest, his eyebrows lifting again as she spoke. After a few moments, he looked back down to the outline, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.

As Elsa nervously watched his face, Jack let out a long, low whistle. He looked back up into her eyes.

 _"_ _Wow,"_ he breathed.

Elsa winced. " _Wait_ ," she stammered, "You don't—is it—?"

Her voice trailed off.

"What? _Oh!_ NO, no, no, no, no! This— _this,"_ Jack corrected quickly, letting out a nervous laugh and shaking the outline, "THIS is great. I think it's a really good idea."

Elsa's heart leapt. "Really?"

"Yeah!"

Letting his staff fall back against his shoulder, he looked back down to the outline. The joking gone from his expression, Jack's face then cracked into a wide, sincere grin.

"No, I think this is great. Reading—making sure everyone can. It's important," he said, his gaze falling onto the parchment again. "Back in the village, I was actually one of the only ones that could read."

Elsa's eyes widened, her breath catching as she realized what he was referring to. "You were literate?"

"My father knew how to read, so he taught me," Jack nodded. He then tossed her a casual shrug, as if bringing up his past life were no big deal. "He knew how because he'd have to go and represent us to the rich folks, and such. But most people didn't have the time to learn how to read. Or resources. Mostly resources, actually."

"I assume they had other priorities," Elsa nodded, struggling to contain her excitement.

 _I can't believe he's telling me this!_

"Yeah. Like, _not_ starving. And chopping enough wood for the winter—so nobody froze to death." He grinned wryly, looking back up into her eyes. "Which is actually pretty ironic, now that I think about it."

Elsa shook her head, smiling as she scoffed. " _You_."

"Yeah, yeah. Dead guy humor."

She laughed, her heart swelling with joy as she admired him, practically basking in his presence as she took it all in. It had only been a day, but—well, Elsa had already gotten accustomed to the Spirit of Winter's fun, playful company, from his snarky remarks to the chill of his touch and brilliant gleam of his white hair. As he had casually brought up something from his past—rather, the dynamics of a peasant village that had existed three _hundred_ years before—Elsa felt a fresh thrill of excitement jolt through her body, once again overwhelmed at the breathtaking reality of who this deceptively young-looking man actually _was._

Blinking herself back into the present, Elsa looked up to realize that Jack's face had fallen, his stunning smile and piercing blue eyes suddenly soft with sadness.

"I'm _sorry,"_ he whispered.

A wave of confusion swept over her face. "Sorry for _what?"_ Elsa asked, her own heart sinking at his expression. "You haven't done anything wrong. I mean—well, if this is about missing dinner, I—"

"—No, no, it's not that. It's just—okay, I _am_ sorry about that," he corrected, looking back up into her gaze, "I—I got held up, and I—it's just— _!"_

As if in pain, he let down the hand grasping Elsa's outline, letting it drop to his side.

"Your _childhood_ ," Jack whispered painfully. "I wasn't there. I really realized that today, and—I could've—I could've _been_ there for you, Elsa. And I wasn't."

Elsa's breath caught at the statement.

Jack swallowed hard, with effort, and then scoffed to himself. Hanging his head with shame, he then pulled in his breath. "If I'd just been more— _vigilant,"_ he stammered weakly, "If I'd actually _checked out_ Arendelle, if I'd actually—"

"Jack, you were there _enough_."

He stopped, looking up in surprise as Elsa took his large, icy hands in her own. Giving them a gentle squeeze, she smiled kindly.

"It made me _stronger_ ," she whispered.

Jack pressed his lips together in frustration. " _No one_ should have to be that strong," he muttered.

"And yet, here we are."

Jack said nothing, staring down at his feet.

"And—and besides," Elsa added, making him reluctantly look up, "Maybe it was better this way. I mean—I would have _loved_ to have you there, but—I had to figure it out on my own. _And_ with Anna, of course," she added quickly. "I learned how to let it go for _myself_."

To this, Jack grinned bitterly as his response, his eyes not smiling with his mouth. Elsa stepped forward, starting to reach for the piece of parchment, and he suddenly leapt away.

 _"_ _Jack!"_

"Well—speaking of _letting things go,"_ he retorted, hopping back and jerking it out of Elsa's reach again as she lunged for it, "This is really important and all, but it's not worth your shriveling up into a little bundle of nerves again. Everything that happened in the past aside, you've _got_ to let this go until the morning."

"But I have suitors in the morning."

"Afternoon, then," he scoffed, his previously teasing expression back on his face. "You can't run a political reform if your brain isn't working."

"My brain _is_ working!"

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"My brain stopped working three hours ago," Elsa mumbled sheepishly.

"Right. Go to bed."

She bit her lip, longingly looking back to her desk. As she started to pull in her breath, Jack stepped in front of her.

 _"_ _Nooooo,"_ he teased, gingerly placing his hand on her shoulder and turning her around, "It's _that_ way, Snowflake."

"I can remember where my bedroom is, _Jack._ "

Jack snorted. Clearly restraining from bursting out laughing again, he then dropped the outline back onto her desk and gently pushed her forward, guiding her back towards her room. Elsa scoffed and rolled her eyes, letting out tiny breath of a giggle in spite of herself as a jolt of electricity shooting over her skin as she felt the chill of his hand on her skin again.

Jack was right, of course. She _would_ be more effective in the morning… not a reason to put things off, of course, but _this_ particular reform didn't have a deadline. She could take a break for some sleep.

Before long, a new, fresh ice-bed for Jack was in her art gallery once again, its foot by her desk, with the standard wall of ice dividing his sleeping quarters from her own. Without even discussing it as they'd swept the wall into existence, Elsa and Jack had built it with a window, as was now their pattern.

A pattern that Elsa sincerely hoped would _never_ cease to repeat itself.

"Uh… Snowflake? Your bed's over _there,"_ Jack chuckled, standing up on his own and pointing through the window into her bedroom. "Remember? And if going to sleep requires you to have a…"

 _Boom._

His voice trailed off as Elsa pulled her hand into the air. Directly across from his, she had conjured another icy bedframe on her side of the wall of ice, identical to his own, and big enough for just one person.

Swirling her hand over the last touches of ice in the solid, crystalline frame, Elsa looked back up to him. She shakily drew in her breath.

"I—um," she quavered, shyly drawing her hand back. "I—thought I could sleep on the other side of the wall tonight. Next—to you?"

Staring down at the bed through the window, Jack's mouth fell slightly open in surprise. After a moment of disbelieving gawking at the second bed, he then looked back up into her eyes.

"Next… to me?"

Elsa nervously fidgeted with his fingers.

" _Oh!_ Um, yeah!" Jack blurted suddenly, snapping back into focus and letting out a quick laugh. "That—that's great! Go for it."

 _Whew!_

Dropping her hands back to her sides, Elsa let out her breath. "Well—you _said_ that snow was more comfortable," she exhaled in relief. "Right?"

"Oh. I mean, right! It is."

Elsa smiled, excitedly whirling away from him. Thoughtfully tilting her head to the side as she looked into her own room, she considered how much space was on the carpet. From where she was standing, it looked like it had _just_ enough room to…

 _Hmm…_

Flicking her hand forward, Elsa sent a graceful streamer of frost swirling into the air. As the flurries floated down to the floor, expanding and settling into a large square across the carpet, she held her breath, throwing her hands apart and conjuring a flat, enormous snowflake out of its center. Perfect.

As she glanced back towards the icy bedframe to compare size, Elsa realized that Jack was pointedly watching her again, leaning as far as he could through their little window and straining to see.

"What are you making?" he asked.

"Beds need blankets," Elsa explained, setting her feet. "So, a blanket."

"But isn't that too wide for—"

 _Shinggg!_

Throwing her hand upwards into the air, Elsa lifted a line of frost straight down the middle of the enormous snowflake, splitting the blanket through its icy center. Now seemingly cut in two, she pulled her hand back, running forward and gathering up the right side of it into her arms as Jack fell silent once again.

Restraining from actually skipping, the Snow Queen rushed back to the wall of ice. Yanking her skirt out of the way with her free hand, she then stepped up onto her icy bedframe, coming up to meet him.

"For you," she said hopefully.

She beamed, holding it up to the window.

Jack's eyes widened.

"Oh—um," he realized, his face flushing. "Thanks. Elsa."

Elsa felt her heart leap again as the Youngest Guardian smiled, taking his half of the blanket and stepping back to spread it out on his bed. As she stepped down from her own bedframe, Elsa swept her hand over it, sending a soft, thick snowdrift across its surface. Seeing that it was even, she then ran back for her half of the snowflake blanket, gathering it up from off of the carpet and running forward again to throw it on top of the snow mattress.

"You know," Jack commented, his voice floating through the window to her as she straightened her half of the blanket on her ice bed, "From above, I'll bet these would look like they're two parts of the same bed. But cut in two by a wall."

"Well—we _do_ have a window," Elsa replied, straightening up. "We could _see_ them from above."

"By all means."

"Should we expand it?"

Jack didn't respond.

After another moment, as Elsa was about to ask him again, she looked up to realize that Jack had lifted his hand, placing it flat on the crystalline wall between the two rooms. Sweeping it to the side, she then watched as a long, elegant spiral of frost leapt up from the ice, unraveling and swirling back behind him into the art gallery.

As the last of the upper ice disintegrated, leaving behind a waist-height wall between them with a thick ledge at the top, Jack Frost glanced back to the glistening snowflakes dancing behind him in the air, bringing his middle finger to his thumb.

 _Snap!_

And the frost melted, disappearing into the thin air in a glimmering mist.

That confident, handsome little grin tugging at the edge of his mouth again, Elsa swooned inwardly as she watched Jack Frost step up onto his bedframe, then leaning against the now-exposed door frame and setting his elbow on the thick ledge between the rooms. Struggling to keep herself from actually squealing with delight, she bit down hard on her lip, picking up the edge of her skirt and stepping onto her crystalline bedframe as well.

Stepping and joining him at the wall of ice, which now came up to her waist, Elsa looked back down. Seeing what he meant, her breath caught.

 _Oh._

"They really _do_ look like the same bed," Jack asked softly. "Don't they?"

Elsa blushed furiously, suddenly wondering with horror if the snowflake blanket had been overstepping the line of what was proper.

"I—um," she breathed, twisting her fingers. "I—suppose they do."

Biting her lip again, her heart pounding, Elsa looked down to her fingers. Beneath them, the two small beds with the two halves of the same snowflake blanket, divided by a short wall of ice… it did indeed look like a king-size bed, but—it also looked like _more_ than that.

More than just a bed, Elsa felt that she was staring down at the picture of an absolutely impossible future.

But it had _always_ been impossible. Now, it simply felt out of reach for—different reasons. Unless— _!_

She bit her lip. Suddenly keenly aware of the fact that her childhood hero's kind, patient gaze was resting on her features, the Snow Queen shakily pulled in her breath.

"I've always wondered what it would be like," Elsa admitted quietly.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Being—being married. To someone."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Feeling a little heat rushing to her cheeks, Elsa looked down, fidgeting with her fingers once again as the word hung upon the air. After a few moments—from the other side of the waist-height wall of ice—she heard Jack pull in his breath.

"Yeah," he admitted sadly. "Me too."

Her eyebrows lifting, Elsa looked back up again in surprise. Seeing her childhood hero's pained, miserable expression, her eyes widened as the realization sank in.

Marriage hadn't ever been an option for _him_ , either.

"Well—for _one_ thing," Jack scoffed, suddenly looking up, "We wouldn't have to put up a _wall."_

"Yeah, NO."

Jack and Elsa both laughed, glancing to each other over the ledge. Leaning onto its sill, Elsa gazed down, staring at the wall of ice dividing the narrow beds.

"I suppose that—well, if we were marr—I mean, for _married_ people," Elsa corrected quickly, blushing and giving her head a quick shake, "I—I suppose this would be when we'd just—talk about the day."

He nodded. "And get ready to go to bed."

"And not have to say goodbye."

Leaning onto the ledge of the now waist-height ice wall, Jack slowly let out his breath, saying nothing. Smiling half-heartedly, he then gave her a little shrug.

"It'd be nice, right?" he admitted.

"I should think so," Elsa agreed. "Really nice."

They simultaneously cast their eyes downward once again, the silence falling over them with the thought.

Elsa sighed.

"I guess the whole ' _alone and free'_ thing has its drawbacks," she said softly.

"Yeah."

And the blanket of quiet fell again.

"You know what really drives me crazy?" Jack asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "Watching people—something that _really_ ticks me off?"

"What?"

He glanced to the side for a minute, as if to see if anyone else was there. Then—leaning in closer to her from over the ledge—Jack grinned bitterly.

" _Married_ people," he whispered.

A look of confusion swept over Elsa's face.

 _"_ _Married_ people?" she asked, leaning away from him. "What's wrong with being _married?"_

"Nothing's wrong with it. _That's_ why they tick me off," he scoffed with disdain. "Married people—who _complain_ about being married. The ones that _whine_ about it. They don't even _realize_ what they've got! It's like, the moment they _find_ someone, they forget how much it hurts to be _alone,_ and—!"

Elsa bit the edge of her lip, waiting for him to continue. After a few moments of contemplation, he painfully sucked in his breath.

"Like, oh, _boo-hoo_ , you have to _take_ _care_ of a _family!"_ Jack sputtered, "So _tied down!_ Oh, that must _really_ suck, except, wait, you wanna know what REALLY sucks?" he gritted, his voice growing louder. "Try— _NOT—_ _ **HAVING**_ _one!"_

 _WHAM!_

He slammed his hand down onto the ledge, a violent blast of ice shooting out over its surface.

Her eyes widening, Elsa looked down to the ledge of the ice wall, the sharp, uncontrolled blast of frost spiked out over its surface. Seeing that flurries of snow were beginning to materialize out of the air around Jack's body as he stared forwards—his chest rising up and down as he struggled to control his breathing—she bit her lip.

"Um… Jack?" Elsa asked, gently placing her hand on top of his own. "Are you okay?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry, I just…"

His voice trailed off. Noticing the snowflakes falling around him, Jack sighed.

"They just—they act like it's such a _trivial thing_ ," he choked. "I mean, can you—can you even _imagine_ what it would be like? To be able to just come home, and maybe talk for a few minutes, and then—go to bed. Like—to be _able_ to just _go to bed_ , with someone? Like it's _no big deal?"_

He scoffed again, shaking his head and ruffling his fingers through his hair. Elsa nodded, giving his other hand a squeeze.

Looking down to the beds again, Elsa's heart sank, the years of loneliness and isolation coming back into her mind once again. Jack had a point—and a point that she _completely_ understood. She hadn't really considered it, because she hadn't allowed herself to linger on impossible ideas, but—truly. What _would_ that even be like? To just— _have_ someone, to go to bed with?

To not be alone?

"And—well, at some point in there," Elsa admitted wistfully, drawing back her hand and staring off into space, "There'd probably be a goodnight kiss, too."

His fingers halfway-back in his hair, Jack froze.

Not noticing his stunned, wide-eyed expression as he stared at her in shock, Elsa sighed, looking back down to her hands once again. Fidgeting with her fingers—and absent-mindedly sending a tiny sparkle of ice particles into the air—she then heard him shift on his feet.

"We—um," Jack said softly, making her look up, "We could still have _that._ I mean, if—if you wanted."

She pulled her gaze away from her hands, the ice particles dematerializing from the air. "We could?"

"Well, just—yeah," he stammered, "It—you don't have to be married. For that part."

Elsa stared.

After a few moments of silence, she looked back down again, trying to process what he was suggesting. Jack stepped back from the window in the wall of ice.

"Just saying," he mumbled.

Pressing his lips together as blood rushed to his face, he closed his eyes, as if he were in pain. Giving his head a quick shake, Jack then turned away, hopping off the bed to get his staff.

"We could try it," Elsa blurted.

Jack froze.

Now standing next to her desk with the shepherd's crook, he turned around to face her again. "Yeah?"

"Well—we _could,"_ Elsa admitted, "I—I mean—to find out what it's like."

 _Clunk._

The staff falling against the desk, Jack was back on his bed in an instant, lurching forward to the ledge where she was standing.

"A _goodnight kiss_ , you mean," he clarified.

Elsa nodded.

Jack's eyes lit up. Stepping up to the wall of ice and leaning over it, Elsa froze as he then reached up to her face, hesitating for a moment before sliding his fingers into her hair.

An instant later, Jack's eyes were suddenly right next to hers, the chill of his breath sending a jolt of electricity across her skin. This was happening. Now. NOW?

Elsa's heart started pounding as he pulled her closer, over the ledge of ice. This was _happening,_ right now, and with _him,_ and he was Jack Frost, and she was going to be _horrible_ , and—

 _"—_ _I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT I'M DOING!"_ Elsa blurted.

Jack stopped, freezing just as his lips were about to make contact with her own. Opening his eyes again, he pulled back and inch and looked to her.

"Uh…" Jack ventured. "What?"

"I'm sorry. I mean, just saying," Elsa stammered, blushing furiously and pulling away, "It's—the last couple times I probably didn't do all that well. But now, we're _thinking_ about it, and I have no idea what I'm doing, so I'm probably really bad at this."

His hand still in her hair, Jack's mouth fell open in shock. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opening them again and giving his head a quick shake.

"You'll be _fine,"_ he told her, letting out his breath. "Elsa—I mean, I _know_ you're fine. It's not a performance _,_ or anything. And, we've kissed before."

"But I wasn't thinking about it, then."

"Maybe that's the point?"

"B-b-but that doesn't make any _sense!"_ Elsa sputtered, her heart leaping into her throat as he reluctantly pulled his hand out of her hair and stepped away from her, "How—how can you _do_ something, if you're not _thinking_ about it? I mean, and now I AM thinking about it, and I've clearly offended you, and—"

"—Wait, wait, wait. Slow down," Jack interrupted. "How am I offended? I mean, I—why would I be offended?"

"Because I've messed up."

"Elsa, you _haven't messed anything up,"_ he sighed with exasperation.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Elsa gingerly placed her hands on the ledge of ice, twisting a spiral of frost on its surface.

Without looking up, she heard Jack let out another sigh.

"And, I—I probably shouldn't have—done that, anyway." Swallowing hard, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I—I thought you _wanted_ to, but I—yeah. I'm sorry."

Elsa stopped tracing, snapping her head up. "Wait. _You're_ sorry?"

He smiled bitterly. "For freaking you out?"

"I freaked myself out."

The words had tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. Elsa snapped her mouth shut, blushing furiously again.

"Okay," Jack shrugged, visibly restraining from a laugh. "You freaked yourself out. That's fair."

" _Why?"_ Elsa stammered, " _Why_ do I always freak out? What's _wrong_ with me?! _WHY can't I do the SIMPLEST things, without freaking out!?"_

"Because you don't believe in yourself?"

Elsa's eyes widened. The words hitting her hard, she bit her lip, and Jack shrugged, sticking his hands into the front pocket on his shirt.

 _"_ _I_ believe in you," he offered.

She didn't respond.

After a few more moments of silence, Elsa heard Jack Frost shift on his feet. Leaning up against the wall again, he then raised his eyebrows.

"Okay—here's an idea," he whispered, making Elsa look up. "Let's just try this as—an experiment. Like, let's pretend it's just going to be something we'll keep secret."

Elsa bit her lip, staring down to the ledge of ice between them again. As she started to open her mouth to respond, Jack Frost then suddenly grasped her hands together in his own, making her jolt and snap her head up to realize that the Spirit of Winter was staring pleadingly into her eyes.

"Between friends?" Jack begged.

His expression was suddenly so desperate, so filled with longing, that Elsa was taken aback. It was—it was almost as if he truly _wanted—!_

 _Don't flatter yourself_ , Elsa scolded herself frantically, trying to will her heart to stop beating so loudly against the inside of her ribcage as she looked down to her hands. _He's Jack Frost. Jack. FROST. You're about to humiliate yourself. You're so hopeless, and he's so amazing, and you'll never in a MILLION years have another chance at—_

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to wrench her gaze away from her hands on the icy ledge. Looking back up into his eyes, Elsa suddenly realized that the snowflake markings on her childhood hero's piercingly blue irises were somehow even _more_ prominent than usual, picking up the stunning contrast of his ice-covered navy shirt and white hair.

Elsa drew herself up.

 _You know what?_

She nodded.

"Between friends," Elsa whispered shyly.

To this, Jack's expression relaxed. His face melting into a sheepish smile, Elsa then watched as the Spirit of Winter carefully reached his hand up to her cheek again, his thumb brushing over her skin as he slid his palm back onto her neck. He gently pulled her forward again, and Elsa pulled in her breath, struggling to keep her breathing even as she closed her eyes.

And their lips met.

Her muscles relaxing into the kiss, Elsa felt her heartbeat slow down into a calm as the feeling of peace washed over her. She felt her knees starting to give out from beneath her in the silence, suddenly enveloped in the overwhelming sensation that _everything_ , every hour spent alone, and every _single_ pin in her childhood map, had all simply been leading up to this moment.

And was worth it.

Jack's lips pulled back away from her own, and the kiss was broken. Her eyes still closed, Elsa suddenly realized that it was over, her mind racing to catch up with what had just happened.

"See?" Jack whispered, smiling knowingly and leaning his forehead against her own. "Not so hard, right? And _you_ were all caught up thinking that you'd—uh—Elsa?"

 _THAT HAPPENED!_ Elsa was thinking frantically. _That—HAPPENED!_ _HOW did that just happen? How is he so amazing; he's AMAZING, and I love him and want him and can't even imagine being without him, and he's so completely and impossibly out of my league and HOW COULD HE KISS ME, OH MY HEAVENS I JUST WAS KISSED BY JACK FROST._

 _"_ _Elsa?"_ Jack stammered suddenly, his voice jolting her from her downward spiral of anxiety as he leaned back. "Are you— _crying?"_

 _"_ _Nmmh!"_ Her lips pressed together into a thin, terrified line, Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head vigorously. She was not going to cry.

She was _NOT_ going to cry.

 _Queen Face!_ Elsa thought frantically, _Queen Face, Queen Face, QUEEN FACE; WHERE'S THAT BLASTED QUEEN FACE, WHEN I—_

"Wait," Jack choked. "I—I'm _that bad?"_

"NO!" Elsa blurted, snapping her head up, " _NO-no-no-no-no-no-NO,_ it's not—I just—I—"

"— _What?_ What is it?"

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut again, biting down hard on the edge of her lip and giving her head a quick shake. After a few more moments—trying to desperately control her breathing—she let out a breathy, helpless gasp of laughter, her eyes stinging as her vision went blurry. He was perfect. Jack was absolutely, and completely, _perfect_ with her, and she had NO idea how to describe it, and— _!_

Forcing herself to look up into his gaze once again, Elsa sucked in her breath.

"You are the _greatest_ friend," she sobbed.

Jack's face went pale.

 _"_ _What?"_ he squeaked.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," Elsa stammered, the words tumbling out of her mouth faster and faster as her eyes started stinging again, "I mean, you're helping me with my _research,_ and my _Council,_ and then there was the thing with King _Edvin,_ and you took me on a _date,_ and _—!"_

She stopped talking, gasping for a quick breath before bursting into tears. Jack Frost was frozen with shock, visibly struggling to come up with a response.

"Uh," he breathed. "It—it was really my pleasure, Elsa—"

"—And now you're _staying_ with me, and _researching_ with me, and my _family,_ and you're kissing me, and everything! Even though I'm horrible, and I don't know what to do with my lips, or anything else, and—but you're still willing to do it! _Just so I could know what it's like!"_

To this, Jack's eyebrows nearly lifted into his hairline.

"Yeah," he scoffed, staring at her in disbelief. "I _definitely_ didn't kiss you just because I _wanted_ to."

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

Elsa spun around, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the waist-height ledge of the wall of ice.

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Are you _serious?"_ Jack breathed.

"YES! I mean—no— _maybe_ , but—but, _see?_ _This is exactly what I MEAN!"_ Elsa stammered, whipping around again and staring into his eyes, "You're _so—NICE!"_

Jack's mouth fell open, and he looked down to the ledge of the ice wall standing between them. Setting his fist on its top edge—and then gently pounding it a couple times—he pulled in his breath.

"I'm _really_ —um," Jack admitted carefully. " _Not_."

"What are you _talking_ about? You're the best friend I've ever— _"_

"—OH-kay, _see_ ," Jack blurted, slamming his fist down onto the ice and snapping his head up, " _That's_ what I'm talking about. You keep saying that we're _friends!"_

Elsa's heart leapt into her throat, realizing that his eyes had instantly shifted from soft to piercing once again, his snowflake-marked irises lit up with frustration. She bit her lip.

"But—but that's what we _are!"_ Elsa choked, her cheeks flushing, "I mean—right? That's what you said! Just—this was an experiment! Between _friends!"_

" _No!"_

"But you said—"

"— _I know what I said!_ But we just—I thought it might—I thought it might _convince_ you, that— _!"_

Jack snapped his mouth shut, blood rushing to his face again in embarrassment. Closing his eyes, he slowly pulled in his breath, as if taking a moment to carefully plan out his next statement in his mind.

He opened his eyes again.

"Elsa—um, can we be like—we can keep— _having_ this," Jack said slowly, "As—as long as we _say_ it's between friends? Is that what you're telling me you're okay with?"

Looking down to her hands, which were pulled into her stomach, Elsa fidgeted with her fingers. Of _course_ she was okay with it. She was _more_ than okay with it. Kissing aside (which was very, _very_ nice), Jack Frost was the most wonderful, and thoughtful, and funny, and smart, and sweet, and— _I_

Gathering her courage, Elsa looked back up into his beautiful, snowflake-marked eyes.

"I would _love_ to keep having this," she admitted. "I—if I'm totally honest, I—don't ever want this friendship to end."

A long moment of silence fell over the room.

Looking down to his feet, Jack nodded, pressing his lips together and taking a step back on his bedframe, away from the wall of ice. Pulling his hands from her, Elsa watched as he then turned away, his shoulders tense and his expression hard as if he were considering something.

Deciding something.

"You know what?" Jack breathed, breaking the quiet and making her look up again. "For right now—I'll _take it."_

Before Elsa could respond, her childhood hero then suddenly whipped around, leaping up to the ledge and kissing her again.

Her breath catching, Elsa's eyes bulged as she realized that Jack's mouth was suddenly smashing up against her own, this time with a ferocity, a _desperation,_ that the last kiss hadn't had. As one of his hands moved around her waist, Jack broke away and gasped for a quick breath of air before jerking her up against the ledge and fervently kissing her again. All of a sudden, Elsa was hyper-aware of every inch of his skin as well as her own; the chill of his breath, the strength of his hands, feeling like nothing in her entire _life_ had ever felt so good, and so comforting, and so safe, and—

And so _right._

Reaching up to touch his face, Elsa was just starting to relax into the kiss when she felt Jack starting to pull away.

 _NO!_

Elsa lunged forward and grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him back to her against the wall of ice. He tripped forward, and an instant later, Elsa felt his mouth on her own again, his cold hands on her waist. As she was reaching up to grasp his hair, she then suddenly felt Jack's palms slide down onto her hips.

Elsa froze, glancing down with shock as he continued kissing her, her heart leaping into her throat as the Spirit of Winter gingerly felt her sides, his hands sliding forward onto the small of her back. His fingers suddenly digging into the fabric of her skirt, he then yanked her hips forward, slamming her up against the waist-height wall of ice.

The polite, proper, _safe_ , stupid _, blasted, AGGRAVATING_ _ **WALL!**_

Gasping a quick breath of air before going in to kiss him again, Elsa suddenly realized that Jack's large, ice-cold hands were no longer on her hips. Suddenly, they were on her shoulders, weakly pushing her away.

Her eyes flew open, and Elsa snapped her head up in confusion. His cheeks flushing, Jack swallowed hard.

"We should—um," he choked softly. "We should— _!"_

Elsa froze as Jack cleared his throat, still breathless. Gingerly pulling his hands away from her, he then gave her a tiny, pained little nod.

"We should probably stop," Jack whispered.

Shifting uncomfortably on his legs, Jack stuck his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, looking down to his feet. Elsa instantly felt color rising to her cheeks.

"Oh," she muttered. "Um… right…"

She'd gotten too into it. She'd messed up. She was getting too enthusiastic, and too passionate, and Jack didn't want her to get attached, and— _!_

Jack was suddenly shifting on his legs again, awkwardly pulling his hands back out of his front pocket as if he weren't entirely sure what to do with them. Letting out his breath, he then stepped forward and settled on placing his elbows on the ledge, leaning over and interlacing his fingers with his hips pressed up against the ice. Staring determinately downward and struggling to take deep, long breaths, Jack Frost was still leaning onto the ledge, almost as if he were _also_ trying to convince himself to calm down.

 _This is why we have to have the stupid wall,_ Elsa thought miserably.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

 _Because of me._

"I'm sorry," Elsa choked, opening her eyes again breaking the silence, her voice hardly more than a whisper. "That—that wasn't ladylike."

Jack snorted, looking up, but not in her direction. Shaking his head while still leaning over the wall, he then let out a breathy laugh of disbelief.

"Snowflake," Jack scoffed, "You are _extremely_ ladylike."

Still not making eye contact, Elsa saw Jack glance to her dress, his gaze lingering on the bottom edge of her bodice for a few moments. Clearing his throat, he looked back down, nodding and ruffling his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah," Jack added breathlessly.

Elsa stared at him in confusion, her heart giving a tiny flutter at the offhanded compliment. If he had _meant_ it to be a compliment.

It _felt_ like it was a compliment?

She looked down, fidgeting with her fingers and analyzing the statement. He was _so_ sweet. And kind. And always trying to make her feel better—yes. That was it. Jack was simply trying to make her feel better, after she'd unintentionally fished for reassurance and praise.

But it was _such_ a sweet thing for him to say…

"So—um," Jack ventured, breaking the silence again and making Elsa snap back into focus. "Well?"

She tilted her head to the side. "Well—what?"

He pushed himself up from the ledge, looking up into her eyes and clearing his throat again. His cheeks flushing pink, the Spirit of Winter swallowed hard.

"You—um," he pleaded, his voice a squeak. "You—did you like it?"

Jack's enormous blue eyes were wide with pleading as he worriedly stared into her face, visibly bracing himself for the worst. Gathering her courage, Elsa smiled shyly.

"It was—fun," she admitted.

Jack's eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

She nodded.

A wave of relief washing over his features, Jack let out his breath, his face breaking into a sheepish smile. He then stepped up to the wall again, Elsa's breath catching as he reached over the ledge, sliding his fingers into her hair. Feeling him gently pulling her forward once again, Elsa's heart leapt, and she took another tiny step up to the wall as Jack silently leaned his forehead up against her own.

Their faces right next to each other, Elsa and Jack stood in silence, saying nothing as they shared the perfect, beautiful moment.

Closing her eyes, Elsa felt Jack's thumb gently brush over her cheek. She didn't flinch, but smiled, her eyelids fluttering open as her gaze fell into his own again.

"I liked it, too," Jack whispered.

Elsa felt she was ready to burst with joy.

All of a sudden, Jack twisted his head and nipped the end of her nose, his teeth affectionately brushing over her skin. Jolting, Elsa gave a breathy, half-giggle in shock, straightening up.

 _"_ _Wait,"_ she stammered, "Did you just…?"

Jack at her flirtatiously, peering up through his eyelashes. "Did I just _what?"_

"I—!"

Elsa fell quiet, trying to decide if she had been imagining things. Then, before she could respond, Jack Frost suddenly bit at the air, his teeth clicking together and making her jump.

Seeing her expression, he laughed, and she relaxed again, blushing and rolling her eyes.

"You, and the—the," Elsa scoffed, " _Nose-biting_ thing."

"It wasn't a bite."

Elsa shook her head, her heart skipping a beat as he reached for her face, cradling the side of her cheek in his large, ice-cold palm once again. Inwardly swooning, and feeling another wave of warmth rushing through her body, she smiled and looked into his eyes.

"I _love_ being friends," Elsa sighed happily.

"Uh-huh. _Friends,"_ Jack whispered, a mischievous little smile twitching out of the side of his mouth. "Sure."

He shook his head, then opening his eyes again and knowingly peering up at her through his eyelashes. Elsa's heart swelled, the rush of warmth sweeping through her body as he gently stroked her hair back, pushing it away from her face.

"Why are you saying it like that?" Elsa stammered, "Why—am I missing something? What's so funny?"

"That you still think we're friends," Jack chuckled, stroking her hair back again. "It's just—it's so— _you._ Of you. _"_

"But if we aren't _friends_ ," she asked, "Then—um, then _what_ —are we?"

He didn't respond for a moment. As Elsa worriedly watched his expression, the Spirit of Winter pulled in his breath, running his thumb over her cheek as his expression softened.

"How about I explain it to you in the morning," he whispered, tilting her head back an inch.

And he was kissing her again.

Elsa's heart swelled, the strange feeling of warmth and joy washing over her again as she felt his lips on her own, his strong hands in her hair and on her waist. Reaching up and running her fingers along the ice-covered edge of his hood, she could feel his muscles through the fabric relaxing, as if he were every bit as relieved as she was. Like—like he was— _confident._

Elsa suddenly became aware of the fact that— _she_ felt confident, too.

Their lips pulled apart again. Saying nothing, Elsa's head swam as she stared up adoringly into his face, feeling like she was drowning in the warmth and comfort of her _best_ friend's startlingly intelligent, deep, and _beautiful_ snowflake-marked gaze.

And Jack had the strangest look in his eyes…

" _Morning_. Okay," Elsa breathed. "We'll talk in the morning. You'll explain this all to me in the morning."

Jack's eyebrows lifted in disbelief. "Wow. Just like that?"

"I have no idea what you're trying to say, but I—um," she admitted sheepishly, "I like the—the way you're—saying it?"

Jack snorted. "You like kissing," he laughed. "Good to know. I'll go write that down."

"Please don't write tha—"

"— _Kidding,_ Snowflake."

The flash of panic that had shot through her subsided, and Elsa blushed in embarrassment. Biting the edge of her lip, she looked up into Jack Frost's stunningly beautiful eyes again just as he was starting to speak.

"To be totally honest, though," he said softly, his gaze dropping to her mouth for a few moments before then moving back up, "I think that _this_ counts as a good reason to stop being _friends."_

 _NO!_

"Wait," Elsa stammered, "We—you don't want to be friends anymore? Are you _leaving?_ Was it—did I do something, or—"

"—Of _course_ I'm not leaving," Jack assured her. "That's not what I meant."

 _Then what DID you mean?_

"But, for now—we're an _Alliance,"_ Jack said softly. "Remember?"

Elsa sighed. "That makes sense."

 _Men make NO sense._

He smiled, lifting a single eyebrow as he looked into her face.

"A _lot_ of things would make sense, if you'd _let_ them, Snowflake," Jack whispered.

His eyes glazing over again, he let out his breath, picking up her hand and beginning to absent-mindedly play with her fingers. As Jack reached for his waist with his other, pulling her hips up to the wall again, he brought her first hand to his lips, affectionately kissing it over and over.

"Um… Jack?" Elsa asked suddenly.

He smiled, gazing worshipfully up into her face and interlacing his fingers with hers.

"Snowflake?" he whispered.

Elsa leaned an inch away from him, gingerly taking a tiny step back from the wall. "I—um, I kind of need to change."

He raised his eyebrows. "Sounds great."

A look of confusion swept over Elsa's features. After another few moments of silence—still running his thumb over her hand and giving her waist a tiny squeeze—Jack's eyes suddenly snapped back into focus.

"Oh—you—um," he stammered, jerking his hands away from her and clearing his throat. "You want to me to—right."

"Because I have to change."

"Right."

His face flushed bright red. As he turned away and stepped down from off of her bed, Elsa could hear Jack mumble something about being married and a watch. She was tempted to ask him to repeat whatever he'd said, but decided that she'd rather just get on her nightgown and be back next to him as quickly as possible.

A minute or so later, now wearing her standard innocent white nightgown and glancing out from behind the room divider, Elsa saw through the ice wall that the shadow of Jack's body was still lying dutifully on his bed, his arm over his face like he was holding his hood shut as he respectfully stayed out of sight. Darting across the room past her regular bed, she leapt onto her icy one next to the wall, scrambling into the pile of snow on top of its solid frame and pulling the snowflake blanket up over her chest.

As she was starting to settle into the snowdrift, Elsa suddenly saw movement next to her in the corner of her eye. Her breath catching, Elsa turned over to realize that Jack Frost had twisted in his bed, reaching across and placing his hand flat on his side of the thick wall of ice.

Propping herself up onto her elbow, Elsa flipped over, reaching around with her opposite hand as well. Seeing the shadow of his large hand outlined through the ice, she then placed her hand flat on her side of the wall to match his.

Through the window above them in the wall of ice, she heard her childhood hero let out his breath.

"Goodnight, Queen Elsa," he said softly.

Elsa's heart swelled.

"Goodnight, Jack."


	59. His

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, guyth! I'll get back to finishing this note later tonight, but I really want to post the actual chapter now. I have quite a few people I want to respond to, but for now, I'll just randomly pick one.**

 _To Guest Reviewer Mrs Anonymous: Wow! That is both super flattering, and IMPRESSIVELY vague. You want "some tips from an inspiring author?" What do you mean? I'm imagining that you either 1) want me to look up some tips for you from MY favorite inspiring authors, 2) want to GIVE me tips, because you are an inspiring author yourself, or 3) think that I'M the inspiring author, and want tips from me. Please clarify, because I'd LOVE to respond! Also, regarding your comment about "please write more than one book": Oh, trust me. Now that I've had to put my PhD on the backburner of my life, I am. Give me another year or so, but when Nattie Thachet and Clive Chesterson Jr. come onto the stage, you will be the FIRST to know!_

 **QUICK NOTE about the whole "friendzoning" thing: Because I have a LOT of teenagers reading this (I'm 25 and married), I just want to clarify something. If someone is acting like they're friendzoning you (like I've written Elsa as accidentally friendzoning Jack!), nine times out of ten, it's because they're _actually friendzoning you._ However, for that _little chance_ that they're not meaning to: _you always have the right to ask_. Once they've GIVEN you an answer (even if it really hurts!), you _don't get to question_ that answer, but—in _this_ adult's opinion—there's _nothing_ creepy or disrespectful about asking somebody for clarification as to where you stand. (I've, uh, seen a LOT people get confused about this, and end up really hurt because of it. If you're ever unsure of what to do, just look yourself in the mirror and repeat the phrase "I will be kind and respectful" until you've figured it out, okay?) ;)**

 **CONTENT WARNING: Shockingly, this chapter has a lot of sexual innuendo/tension in it, including the fact that my version of Jack is—handsy. (Even though I don't let him go _too_ far!) ;) **

**.**

 **59: HIS**

The Snow Queen of Arendelle was—by far—the most kind, amazing, wonderful, brilliant, beautiful, and altogether impossibly _perfect_ woman that Jack Frost had ever, _ever,_ known.

Smiling dreamily, the Youngest Guardian leaned over the ledge that constituted the ice wall between their respective rooms, resting his chin on his fist and silently twisting a little snow cloud into existence over her as she slept. As the snowflakes fell silently down to the icy bed, glittering in the early-morning moonlight, she was a—well, a _vision_. Elsa's pale skin was just warm enough that a normal, non-magic snowflake would melt upon contact, but all around her, the light dusting of frost was beginning to pile up into drifts, snowflakes glistening on her icy nightgown and sticking to her eyelashes and locks of long, soft, _gloriously_ touchable blonde hair.

Jack sighed happily.

 _Finally._

He smiled to himself, then biting the edge of his lip as he looked down towards his feet. From this perspective, it really _did_ look like their two icy bed frames, covered with the two pieces of the snowflake blanket, were really two halves of the same bed. As it should be. It might have only been the sixth day since they'd met, but he already knew that he couldn't imagine life without her. Even with her mortality, it—

Jack shook the thought from his mind. That was way too far out to even _consider,_ at this point. And they'd get there when they got there.

He'd think of something.

Scoffing at himself, Jack shook out his hand, the snow cloud above them beginning to fade. An instant later, he let out his breath and backhandedly swept it into existence again, sending a new sparkle of snowflakes gently falling over Elsa's bed.

She was _so_ beautiful… even _last_ night's dreams couldn't rival the Ice Powers Girl, in real life.

 _His_ Ice Powers Girl.

Without any HOPE of sleeping after— _that—_ heh heh—Jack had lain awake in his bed for hours, staring at the ceiling with a dazed, vacant smile on his face, his arms crossed behind his head in the snow. With a new set of carefully-preserved lipstick marks smeared across the inside of his right forearm, he had then decided to pry himself away from Elsa's side so that he could go ahead and keep working on her Christmas present—which included, but was not limited to, getting rid of her _stupid_ Council.

After he'd gotten back from hitting a few more of the geezers' bedrooms during the night, _still_ wide awake, Jack had then taken the liberty of looking over that proposal that she'd been working on. He'd had _nothing_ to add to it—Elsa, it appeared, had already figured out every loophole and issue that he could think of, right down to the funding. She'd been so flustered, claiming it was only a draft, a _"brainstorm,"_ but—well, _he'd_ thought the dang thing was practically finished. She just needed to write it up, that was all. Somebody _seriously_ needed to work on this woman's confidence…

Especially a woman who could kiss like _that._

Pulling his hand back, the little snow cloud disintegrating into the air, Jack Frost straightened up from the ice ledge and reached for his sleeve. Carefully tugging it back over his forearm and eying his _new_ collection of _"Actual Proof That I Totally Made Out With Queen Elsa"_ lipstick smears, his heart leapt.

There was a tiny moan, and Jack jumped, pulling the sleeve back to his wrist and looking down. The snow crunching beneath her as she moved, the Ice Powers Girl was stirring.

Jack's breath caught. Her back arching as she stretched, Elsa yawned, her lovely chest lifting under the covers as she daintily covered her mouth with the back of her hand. Shifting in the snow, she turned slightly, then pausing, as though she were surprised to not be in her normal bed.

Her eyelids fluttering open, the Ice Powers Girl's beautiful, deep blue eyes were suddenly staring up into his own.

Jack smiled.

"Morning, Snowflake," he whispered.

Sinking into the snow again, Elsa's mouth curved into shy little smile as well, a wave of relief sweeping over her face. Staring up at him as she started to sit up, she grasped at her half of the snowflake blanket, before—

 _"Oh!"_

Elsa gasped, her cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment as looked down, pulling her hand out of the snow and suddenly noticing the frost all around her on the bed. Her mouth falling open in shock, she looked to Jack in horror. "I—um— _!"_

"Calm down. It was me."

The Snow Queen let out her breath, looking back down to the snowdrift and biting her lip. As she moved, sitting up and clutching her half of the snowflake blanket to her chest, her loose hair fell back over her shoulders, shaking a few snowflakes loose to skim down the back of her icy nightgown. Jack's eyes grew hazy.

Queen Elsa was _so_ adorable.

"So…" she started to ask. "Jack?"

He smiled again, resting his chin on his fist. "Yeah?"

"Can you—um—"

"— _Oh!_ Right."

He dutifully spun around, pushing himself off from the ice ledge and flipping over onto his back. The snow crunching beneath him on his ice bed, Jack Frost then reached up to his hoodie, pulling it shut over his face as he heard Elsa getting up on her side of the wall.

The floorboards creaked beneath her feet as the Snow Queen walked across her room, the sound ceasing as she came to a stop. Still holding his hoodie shut over his eyes, Jack knew without looking that his Ice Powers Girl at this point was standing behind her room divider, most likely lifting her delicate hand to her nightgown.

A few moments later, there was a characteristic _whooshing_ of wind from the other side of the room. Sinking into his snow, Jack smiled dazedly.

 _Wow._

Elsa was amazing. She was absolutely, and entirely, _amazing,_ at absolutely _everything,_ except maybe at picking up on his attempts to hit on her. But, that could be overcome, assuming that she still liked him that way. Well—how she'd liked him on the previous night, that was. Because, _speaking_ of wow…!

There was another _whoosh,_ and Jack's heart sank a bit, knowing that his Snow Queen was starting to get dressed again, swirling her hands through the air and conjuring a new set of icy clothing. Of course, from what he'd seen a couple of days before, _that_ could be just as fascinating, for entirely different reasons. Ooooh, this wintery lady was an entirely new GENRE of fun…

And, _so_ talented. When Elsa was fully dressed, though, he couldn't spend _too_ much time admiring the ice-fabric thing, because Jack had found that his mind would inevitably slip from innocently admiring the skill required to even _design_ clothing like hers, to wondering how many seconds it would take for him to rip it off with his teeth.

Which was… probably about twenty.

Unless she was moving, in which case he WAIT NO STOP BEING CREEPY.

Determinately yanking his hoodie down over his face, Jack gave his head a violent shake, squeezing his eyes shut and pushing the images from his mind. Not yet. SO many levels of not yet… _!_

 _But she's my girlfriend now,_ Jack suddenly realized, his brow furrowing in confusion. _Is it still bad to think about it, if she's my girlfriend? Like, we can't DO anything, but…_

He bit the edge of his lip. Yeah, it was probably still inappropriate to think about it. MAN, it would be nice to have a rulebook or something for all of this. You couldn't control what popped into your mind, but you _could_ decide if you lingered on it. And _oh_ , he wanted to linger on the beautiful Snow Queen _so_ badly…

He sighed. Kneading his eyebrows as he lay back in the snow on his bed, Jack mentally ran through all the guys he knew that he could ask about this. North would probably launch into a three-hour lecture about honor. Sandy would tease him about it for the next decade or five, while _not_ actually giving him any real answer. And, _Bunny—_

Jack wasn't asking Bunny.

Looking down into the art gallery towards the glass doors, Jack considered the dark morning sky that was beyond them. Manny's light was clearly absent, but—well, he'd be on the other side of the earth by now, given the time. And Jack could ask him when he got back. The Man in the Moon gave the _best_ advice… in fact, it seemed that he _always_ knew what to do, with this kind of thing.

If Manny had ever been mortal, he must have been one _heck_ of a guy.

"Alright, you can get up now," Elsa's voice floated over the wall of ice, interrupting his train of thought. "Thanks for waiting, Jack."

"Not a problem, Snowflake."

He leapt onto his feet, tossing the staff to himself and spinning around to jump into the air. If he and Elsa got married, he was going to _abolish_ the concept of the room divider. Along with insisting that Elsa always, _always,_ precede him when going up stairs.

Because—uh— _chivalry_.

Yeah.

That was why.

Flying over the wall and across the room, Jack Frost dropped down next to her as she walked out from behind the room divider, a new, light blue capelet billowing out behind her.

"So," he started with a grin, glancing down to her dress for a long moment before looking back up into her eyes, "What's the plan? Another _enthralling_ day of never leaving the library?"

"I wish," Elsa grimaced. "I have the last round of suitors this morning. Assuming that there aren't any more scheduling conflicts."

"Ah. Got it."

The Snow Queen crossed the room to her dresser, pulling out the top drawer and considering her makeup collection. It was a bummer that they didn't have more open, unscheduled time together, but—well. After the events of the previous evening, at least Jack was confident that he didn't have to be concerned about his Elsa's so-called _suitors_ anymore.

Swinging his shepherd's crook behind his back and catching it with his opposite hand, Jack Frost shrugged, walking towards her. "This is the last round of sorry saps, though," he asked. "Right?"

She turned back around to face him. "Yes," Elsa nodded. "I am _so_ sorry that you have to come with me. But I really appreciate it. Even though I'm sure it must be boring for you."

"I'd rather be there than make you go alone." Coming up beside her, Jack dropped the end of his staff into the carpet, absent-mindedly beginning to spin it as he spoke. "But just _think!_ In just a _couple of hours_ , we'll be rid of them forever."

A look of confusion swept over her face as she selected a lipstick tube from the drawer. _"We?"_

"Yeah," he said. " _We."_

She let out her breath, smiling bitterly. "I _really_ appreciate the support, Jack," Elsa sighed, "But you shouldn't feel obligated to help me deal with this. I mean—they're _my_ problem."

"I'll explain later," Jack whispered, catching the staff. "We're talking about it after your audiences are over, remember?"

Elsa nodded, turning back to the mirror and uncapping her lipstick. Glancing down, Jack's eyebrows lifted, a new idea striking him. When she had her heels on, Elsa was a _little_ taller than he was, but when she was barefoot (like she was now), Jack had an inch or two on the Snow Queen. So, as long as he _did…_

Silently reaching forward and leaning his staff up against the edge of the dresser, Jack walked around behind her, pushing the capelet and long end of her dress to the side with his foot. Stepping up to her back, he then suddenly placed his hands on her waist, sliding his hands forward over her stomach into a tight embrace.

Elsa froze, still holding her lipstick. Letting out a happy sigh, Jack leaned his head forward against the back of hers, smiling into her hair.

"Um…" Elsa squeaked. "Hello?"

Jack's heart swelled. Giving her a gentle squeeze, he then shifted on his feet, setting his chin on her shoulder.

"Hi, Snowflake," he whispered.

Looking at her in the reflection, Jack's heart swelled as his Ice Powers Girl blushed, her mouth curving into an adorably nervous little smile. Seeing it, his own smile grew even wider.

"Oh—and, uh," Jack offered softly, pulling her in closer as he spoke into her ear, "We can talk about _this_ , too."

She nodded, her breath catching as Jack placed a quick kiss on her neck, then grinning up into their reflection again.

"We have quite a few things to talk about," Elsa asked breathlessly. "Don't we?"

"Oh… I think we have a _lot_ we need to talk about, Snowflake."

Jack gave her another squeeze, his heart leaping as he saw that Elsa was smiling. Still holding the lipstick, his Ice Powers Girl then closed her eyes, relaxing into his arms in the silence.

The Youngest Guardian could practically feel his heartbeat slow into the calm of the moment as he held her, a strangely happy, peaceful feeling sweeping through his body as he stared into the mirror and the perfect picture that it held. She _believed_ in him _._ He still wasn't used to that—and now, he was _touching_ her, too. And she looked like she was _enjoying_ it.

No magic required.

Letting out his breath, Jack started to pull his hands back on Elsa's waist, his palms flatly skimming over the edge of her bodice and onto the sides of her skirt. Knowing that he now _had_ to be below the bottom edge of her corset, Jack could feel without effort that her body was suddenly soft again under the fabric, her natural hips free of the torture device that bound in her waist. Unlike her corseted stomach, the Ice Powers Girl's hips were soft. They were soft, and free, and _Elsa_. Just like they were supposed to be.

 _SO much better._

"Um—Jack?" Elsa quavered, suddenly tensing again as he felt her hips, "What are—is everyth- ** _EEP!"_**

She jumped and squeaked in shock as Jack suddenly gave them a hard squeeze, his fingers digging into the fabric of her skirt. Elsa jumped and whirled around to slap him, and he laughed, leaping away from her.

" _You—!"_

" _WHOA!"_ Jack ducked, barely missing her hand. "Wait, was that the line?"

"YES."

 _Whoops._

"Oh—sorry, then," Jack admitted, putting his hands in the air. He then anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought you were okay with—"

"—It's a _good thing_ I hadn't started putting this _on!"_ Elsa sputtered, scoffing bitterly and holding up the makeup tube. "You would have made me mess up my lipstick!"

"Wasn't I going to do that anyway?"

Elsa's face went pale, and she visibly recoiled, falling quiet and looking to the floor. Seeing her shoulders hunching over in embarrassment—her beautiful smile suddenly gone—Jack instantly wished that he could retract the statement.

 _Too far._

"Oh—uh, here," Jack stammered, reaching into his pocket and desperately trying to change the subject. "I nabbed something for you."

He pulled out a small something, stepping forward to her again, but being careful not to touch her. As Elsa turned around to face him, putting down the lipstick, Jack carefully picked up her hand, pressing the tiny, round little object into her palm.

"A chocolate truffle?" she asked, opening her hand realizing what it was. Jack let out his breath, seeing her relax again. "Wherever did you _get_ this from?"

"I might have stepped out a few times last night."

"Stepped out? Stepped out to— _wait_."

Jack waggled his eyebrows, biting the edge of his lip and restraining from a grin. All of a sudden, Elsa's eyes widened.

"My _Council?"_ she gasped. "You—how many—"

"Three," Jack chuckled. "I made a few stops."

Her mouth fell open. " _Really?"_

Jack grinned. "I wasn't tired."

Looking back down to the truffle, Elsa's face flushed, breaking into a smile again. Seeing it, Jack's heart leapt again.

The Snow Queen was _so_ beautiful when she was happy.

"Your stole a _truffle_ from one of my councilmen?" Elsa scoffed.

"No, no, no. Not _me. I_ wasn't there." Jack smirked. "Now, there may or may not have been an invisible _phantom_ that passed through, but—"

Elsa laughed. "An invisible phantom, that likes chocolate?"

 _An invisible phantom that likes HAVING a girl who likes chocolate,_ Jack thought.

"It could happen," he shrugged, grinning mischievously at her.

Jack leaned forward to pick up his staff, tossing it to himself and then letting the shepherd's crook fall back onto his shoulder. Disaster averted. She was smiling again, and laughing again, and he needed to remember to not grab her _quite_ that hard.

Looking back up and expecting her to be smiling again, Jack's heart stopped as he realized that Elsa's face had suddenly gone grave.

"Wait," he blurted, "Uh—Snowflake? You okay?"

She closed her eyes, as if in pain. Pressing her lips together—and hesitating for a moment—she then shook her head.

"I can't," Elsa stammered, "I—I'm sorry. I can't steal from them."

Jack's eyes widened. "Booting them from the Council—"

"—Is _not stealing_."

Jack's heart sank as Elsa stepped back up to him, replacing the truffle in his hand and closing his fingers around it.

" _Promise_ you'll put it back?" she pleaded.

"Fine…"

Jack sighed, looking down to the truffle back in his hand and trying to hide his disappointment. He'd figured that the guy didn't _deserve_ the chocolate, anyway. Not like his Elsa did.

 _But_ —given everything that she'd done and sacrificed, by this point—Jack was pretty certain that his Elsa deserved _everything._

"If it's _any consolation_ ," Jack mumbled, pocketing the chocolate, "I don't think he was even planning on _eating_ it."

"I'm sorry. I'm still just not comfortable with it."

Jack smiled bitterly. "And here I was, thinking I'd _corrupted_ you already. With the pranking, and all."

"That's _different,"_ Elsa countered, finishing off her lipstick. "It's _political!"_

"Sure, sure."

As she pressed her lips together, looking at her reflection and setting the makeup into place, Jack stepped forward turned around, leaning back against the edge of her dresser. Peering up at her through his eyelashes, Jack Frost then flirtatiously leaned in close to her face.

" _Naughty-lister,"_ he whispered.

A sly smirk twitching out of the side of his mouth, Jack straightened back up, watching as Elsa's cheeks flushed with shock. As she looked to him, her mouth hanging open, he quickly pulled in his breath.

"Last night was fun. By the way," Jack added, changing the subject back as Elsa reached up to her hair, parting it into three sections and beginning to braid it. "It's nice to _finally_ be on the same page."

Elsa suddenly stopped braiding her hair. Her face falling, she then started again, her movements slower and more painful than before.

"I completely agree," she sighed, "It's probably better if I don't come with you. I'm glad that this works better."

 _Huh?_

 _"HUH?"_ Jack sputtered.

"My councilors?" Elsa clarified, pulling the braid over her shoulder, _"Operation Ice Alliance?_ I mean, it was really exciting to go with you for Mr. Hauge, but it's—I'm probably just not cut out for pranking. And I'm not offended if it's more fun without your—having to keep me covered."

Elsa blushed slightly, visibly trying to hide her disappointment as Jack realized what she was talking about. As she finished her braid, flicking a sparkle of snowflakes over it to seal it into place, it hit him.

"Wait—no," Jack stammered, "No, I—uh, I was talking about— _us."_

Elsa let out her breath. "So was I."

"No, not like that," Jack laughed nervously, a wave of anxiety sweeping through him at her lack of response. "I meant— _like_ —you know. _Us."_

He gestured back and forth between them.

Elsa gaze dropped to the dresser, an expression of confusion sweeping over her face as she considered the statement, almost like she was trying to take it in and analyze it all at the same time. After a few moments, her eyes lit up.

 _"OH!_ You're talking about _kissing!"_ Elsa blurted, snapping her head up. "Right?"

Jack snorted in shock, his face breaking into a full-on grin at her bluntness. "Yeah," he laughed. "I was. Actually."

"Oh—and that's _right!"_ Her eyebrows lifted as she remembered. "And there was something you were going to explain to me. Like—Ice Alliance. You wanted to talk about it in the morning, right?"

"Right."

"Okay!" Elsa cheerily spun around, clapping her hands together and leaning back against her dresser. " _Explain away!"_

Jack's breath caught in his throat.

"Oh. I—aaaah," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck and suddenly feeling like he was standing in a spotlight. "I—wasn't thinking we'd do it—now. Right now."

She looked confused. "When?"

"Well, I was thinking we should talk after your suitors," Jack said quickly, "Because you've—wait, _how_ many suitors did you say you have to see?"

"Four."

"Okay. Four." Jack nodded, trying to control his breathing _just_ enough so that he could appear casual. "I just figured—let's get that out of the way, and then I was—hoping I could take you out again. To that ice castle thing we built? Remember?"

Elsa nodded. Jack pulled in his breath.

"Well, after another four sorry saps, I imagine you'll be ready for a break," he continued carefully. "And I want to make sure there's enough time for—explaining."

Elsa nodded slowly, and she glanced downwards, considering his words once again. Jack bit his lip.

 _And more making out,_ he thought desperately. _PLEASE more making out._

"You… um," Elsa asked hesitantly, her voice hardly more than a whisper as she looked back up. "Are you—are you asking me out? On—like, on another _date?"_

"Well—yeah!" Jack shrugged, drumming his fingers on the staff. "I guess we can definitely call it that, if—"

 _"—Yes!"_

Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise.

 _"YES!_ I mean—yes. Thank you," Elsa stammered, her cheeks flushing with unhidden delight as the shy little smile returned to her lips. "I'd love to go out again after I'm done with the audiences."

"Great. It's settled then." Jack exhaled, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. _That_ was a way better reaction than he'd been expecting.

Oh, _Manny,_ she was cute.

Elsa nodded excitedly. "And we can give Anna a heads-up at breakfast!"

"Of course."

Pulling open the top drawer of her dresser again, the Ice Powers Girl thoughtfully looked over all the little compacts and tubes inside. Finally selecting a small, round container, she reached into the drawer, picking it up with a little matching makeup brush.

"Oh—and, uh," Jack added quickly, snapping his head up, "I just—I wanted to apologize, too. If it sounded like I was condescending to you, with the— _explaining—_ thing."

She sighed, flicking open the compact and beginning to swirl the little brush around inside it. "It's okay. I didn't think you were."

"Because I wasn't trying to."

"I've never really had friends before," Elsa admitted, leaning into the mirror and brushing the lilac powder over her eyelids. "At least—not like this."

She sighed, snapping the compact shut.

 _Welp,_ Jack thought. _That IS the idea, Snowflake._

"Just let me know if you ever want to learn about _Latin_ ," Elsa laughed bitterly, straightening up and replacing the makeup and little brush back in the dresser drawer. "Or calculus. Or foreign policy."

"How about a rain check?"

She shook her head, rolling her eyes and smiling as she pushed the drawer shut. Jack smiled as well, his shoulders relaxing. He could practically feel his heart resume its beating, but had to work to keep himself from looking _too_ excited at the prospect of another afternoon alone with Elsa. He was still planning it out, but he figured they'd go to the ice castle thing, maybe build some more, talk, dance, whatever she wanted. What they _did_ didn't really matter to him (okay, besides the making out), but—if he was going to have to flat-out _explain to Elsa_ that she was his girlfriend—Jack wanted this to be special _._

And _speaking_ of special…

"Soooo," Jack ventured, carefully watching her expression. "Where's my kiss?"

She looked to him quizzically. "Kiss?"

"Well—yeah. A _good morning_ kiss."

Her mouth fell slightly open again, and Jack's breath caught. Restraining from looking down at the rest of her curvy, ice-draped form, he was suddenly staring into her face again, practically drowning in Elsa's deep, innocent eyes.

Mother of _NORTH,_ the Snow Queen was beautiful.

"Be—because we're doing the _goodnight kiss_ thing, now," Jack added, stepping forward and picking up her hands, "I mean—right? So I figured—"

 _"—Oh!_ Of course! I just—!"

Jack held his breath as the Ice Powers Girl nervously looked down to their hands, adorably shocked as she realized that his much larger ones were now around hers. Blushing, she gave a little shrug, then looking back up. "I—I didn't know. I mean, I've never heard of that. Is that really a thing?"

To this, Jack Frost restrained from a smirk.

 _It is now._

"Sure, sure," he told her, beginning to pull her back towards the chair. "I mean—yeah! Of _course_ it is!"

"Huh. That's interesting," Elsa responded, her gaze lifting upwards in thought as Jack guided her forward, gently encouraging her to walk with him, "I didn't realize that at all. Honestly, I hadn't even heard of it before. But, I suppose it might have something to do with the cultural patterns surrounding the concept of a goodnight kiss, because as a _child,_ you can often receive one from your parents, but in the _morning,_ you _OH!"_

She gasped in surprise as Jack suddenly sat down in the chair, spinning her body around and yanking her into his lap. Feeling Elsa's weight on his legs, a jolt of electricity shot through his body.

 _Mine!_ Jack thought excitedly.

Reaching his hand around onto her hip, Jack eagerly pulled the Ice Powers Girl up further onto his thighs, his heart leaping as he felt the curves of her body suddenly pressing up against his own.

 _Mine mine mine mine mine mine MINE._

"Um—Jack?"

Smiling uncontrollably, Jack looked up into the Snow Queen's stunningly beautiful, deep blue eyes.

"Yeah?" he gasped.

Elsa's mouth twitched to the side with concern. "Is this—is this okay?"

"Well, I just figured that, if we're _trying_ things," Jack panted, gingerly patting her hip, "You know, within _reason,_ of course? I mean, if you're—as long as you're comfortable with—"

"—I'm comfortable with it," Elsa blurted.

 _Yay!_

Looking down, Jack saw that the long slit in Elsa's skirt had fallen open over her knee, exposing an inch of her thigh. Pulling his left hand back from her hip, he quickly reached for her leg, curling his fingers under her knee and yanking her up further onto his lap.

Elsa's breath caught, and he snapped his head up in a jolt of panic. An instant later, she shot him a nervous smile, and his heart leapt.

With one hand around her leg and the other on her hip, Jack's mind raced as he watched the Ice Powers Girl reach up and push a stray hair back into her braid. Elsa then shyly stretched out her arm, reaching it around his neck, and an instant later, the Ice Powers Girl started to lean into him to _OHMYGOSH!_

Jack's eyes bulged as he looked back down, Elsa's body suddenly pressing up against his chest as she snuggled into it. Well, she and her—everything. Right in front of his eyes. Everything was right there.

Right. _THERE._

 _GEEUUUUUUUUUH._

"Um…" Elsa started to say, "Jack? Is everything—"

 ** _"—HI!"_**

His sudden shriek of a greeting had made her jump, startling back an inch. Clearing his throat, he blushed.

"Hi," Jack panted, trying again. "Ha—hey. Hi. Hi, Elsa."

She laughed quietly into her hand, her hair shifting over her shoulder as she bowed her head forward. Feeling its softness as it swept past his cheek, ice crystals glistening in the strands, Jack's jaw slackened.

 _SO pretty._

"I was just going to ask," Elsa tried again, pulling him out of the stupor, "Are you okay? You look—I'm not sure."

"OH! _Yeah!_ I just—I— _!"_

 _Nice. Very nice. Girl, female, soft, yay; HI._

Snapping his mouth shut, he looked back down, his gaze momentarily hitching on the top edge of her icy dress's bodice, which was now mere inches from his face. Closing his eyes, Jack restrained from flat-out embracing her; from burying his face in her chest and squeezing her as hard as he could to reassure himself that she wasn't a dream _,_ all the while _desperately_ resisting the urge to—

Jack chewed the edge of his lip.

 _Everything_.

He closed his eyes for a long moment, forcing himself to pull in a nice, slow, _caaaaalming_ breath of air.

"I—like this," Jack exhaled.

Elsa's cheeks flushed, and she smiled. "Me too."

"And, you. I _really_ like you."

The Ice Powers Girl blushed again, shyly biting the edge of her lip and looking down as her smile grew. As she moved, the edge of her icy skirt falling over his knee, his heart leapt again.

"So," he whispered, "Are—are we—?"

" _Oh!_ Right. Of course."

Elsa reached around his neck, clasping her hands behind it. Jack's heart started pounding, realizing that she was leaning down towards his face, her warm breath sending a shiver across his skin. Her lips were almost touching his.

Smiling in relief, the Youngest Guardian closed his eyes.

 **"THE _MOOOOOOORNING_ MAAAAAIL, YOUR WONDERFULNESS!"** a voice suddenly shrieked from the hallway, making Jack and Elsa both startle into the air.

Ripped from the moment, Jack's eyes flew open, his jaw dropping as Elsa whipped her head around towards the door. _"What_ the _BLIZZARDS is—"_

 **"—MAY I ENTER YOUR ROOM?!"** shrieked the voice again.

 _Flippin' NO!_

Looking back up with horror, Jack realized that Elsa, still sitting on his lap, was silently giggling to herself. Shaking her head, she looked up into his eyes.

"That would be Olaf," she laughed, smiling apologetically. "He brings me my mail."

"Any chance he could bring it a little _quieter?"_ Jack scoffed.

 _Or, just—NOT?_

"I'm sorry," Elsa was saying, making Jack snap his head back up from her chest to look into her eyes. "I have to get this."

His breath catching, he realized that she was starting to get up off of his lap. Without even realizing it, Jack made a strangled sound of protest, his grip tightening on her hips.

Elsa froze, looking to him in surprise.

"Which means I need to stand up," she choked, glancing down to his hands as a hint.

"NO! _WAIT!_ I— _!"_

Jack snapped back into focus, realizing that his Ice Powers Girl was starting to shift away from him again. Gulping his breath, he swallowed hard.

"Can't the mail _wait?"_ Jack pleaded, his voice breaking.

"But it's Olaf!"

" _But_ — _!"_

 _But our MOMENT!_

Jack's face fell as Elsa got up off of his lap, her hands falling away from his neck. Before he had the time to come up with another way to protest, she bent down and gave him a quick, aggravatingly platonic kiss on the forehead, then whirling away from him to run for the door.

All but actually grasping at the air where she had been sitting a few seconds before, Jack let out his breath, restraining from a groan as he watched the long capelet on the Ice Powers Girl's sparkling dress billow away from him. They were having a moment. A _MOMENT._ Could anybody even _know, HOW HARD HE HAD WORKED FOR THAT?!_ Kristoff and Sven had taken the snowgies up the mountain with them on the previous evening, but apparently, the Snow Queen couldn't have more than three seconds of privacy away from her many snowy children.

Jack pressed his lips together, staring down at the floor.

 _Parenting,_ he thought miserably. _A preview._

His head still swimming in the reality of the fact that he'd just had the Ice Powers Girl on his lap, Jack eventually watched himself get onto his feet again, walking back to the dresser to retrieve his staff. Elsa had, of course, welcomed in the bubbling snowman, who had shoved her a silver tray of letters and immediately launched into telling her all about his plans for the day. When he'd addressed Jack as his father, Jack hadn't even bothered to correct him. He was still watching his beautiful Elsa's every move.

Elsa was the girl, the _Ice Powers Girl,_ that he'd been unknowingly waiting and wishing for, for over three hundred years. But—she was _so_ much more than that. With all of her brilliance, and grace, and talent, and passion, and—well, just her _goodness,_ really—the Snow Queen of Arendelle was just _that_.

Not entirely hearing Olaf and Elsa's conversation, Jack picked up his staff, letting it fall back onto his shoulder and glancing to her mail sitting on the edge of the dresser. His eyebrows lifting, Jack looked down at the top card on the tray, seeing the fancy script across the envelope's front.

 _To the Snow Queen_

Jack glanced longingly towards the beautiful, brilliant young woman beside him as she leaned over the dresser, fluffing her hair. Looking back down at the letter once again, Jack's features melted into a smile.

Yes, she was.


End file.
